Late Nights
by wintergirl17
Summary: A student meets the Twins at an IHOP.
1. At the IHOP

Killa hauled her heavy bookbag into the IHOP. Pulling all nighters on nothing but coffee and the occasional donut sucked eggs. Med school sounded like a great idea, but the Pre-Med course load was hell. While her friends were sleeping, Killa was reading about chemical reactions and human biology. Loved what she was doing, but she missed her previously busy social life. Finals were especially grinding.  
  
Luckily her friends were cool about how busy she was and kept telling her they'd all go on a road trip over the summer. Two more weeks, just two more weeks and she'd be free. Killa settled in at her favorite table and wondered if she'd see any of the strange regulars tonight. One of the things she looked forward to was the weird people who came into the IHOP in the middle of the night.  
  
Killa had claimed as her own the poorly lit table in the back of the restaurant and always dressed as unobtrusively as possible so she could people watch when she needed a break from her books. With her hair tied up in a pony tail, a ball cap on, a baggy sweatshirt and painters pants she wasn't going to attract any attention. There were some real characters that came in here; she liked to watch them but she didn't want them to pay her any attention.  
  
Her favorites were two twins that looked like they might be albinos. That got her attention, from her genetics class she knew how rare that particular combination was. She wasn't sure if they were albinos though, because their eyebrows were darker than their hair. Plus, their lips and nails were an odd color. The nails looked like polish, but the lips looked like, well, it looked like that was their natural color, sort of corpse like.  
  
They were fascinating; the way they moved together, the fact they almost always wore silver, light gray or white clothing together-they seemed closer than her friends the Monroe twins, almost like they were deliberately trying to creep people out. She wasn't afraid of them, although it seemed like everyone else was except their regular waitress, Betty. (People would get up and move if the twins sat next to them.) Killa did somehow recognize that they were dangerous, but they didn't seem that bad. Like big jungle cats, not really evil, just predatory and maybe a bit unpredictable. She was just going to look at them anyway.  
  
She couldn't figure out their clothing. Most of the time they wore the same outfit: a trench coat, tie, shirt, boots, waistcoat and matching pants. But sometimes they wore a simple casual outfit, a pair of gray pants or faded jeans topped by a crisp white shirt or, t-shirt. Was the outfit they usually wore a uniform? Where would you work that required you to dress like that? It was strange.  
  
Last night they wore jeans and matching gray sleeveless tanks. She'd trouble concentrating on her studies because she kept looking at their smooth well-defined muscles and skin that looked as soft as cotton balls. She thought they'd caught her stealing glances at them--they started stretching and flexing in totally unnecessary ways. They were lovely, if a bit odd.  
  
Once Killa got into her books though, the world closed around her and she noticed nothing. She didn't see them leave, didn't see the slightly bigger one steal a glance at her over his shoulder as he left, didn't see the other one staring at her as he paid. And, honestly, wouldn't much have cared. She just liked to look; the twins were a puzzle, not much else. If she'd seen them paying her that much attention, she'd probably have picked a different IHOP to study.  
  
A couple of weeks ago she asked Betty, her regular waitress, about them Betty told a story that was pretty unbelievable. One night, four AM, about a year ago, those two came in for the first time while the cook was taking out the trash. Betty was the only one in the restaurant for about five minutes. She seated them, then went to get them coffee; when she came back, one of them was gone, but the other ordered pancakes for both. She walked back to the kitchen to start their pancakes and there was an honest to goodness ghost floating over the grill. Betty said she freaked out and started screaming her head off, couldn't stop screaming, was rooted to the ground in absolute freaking terror.  
  
As the figure wafted up into the vent-a-hood, she noticed that she could see the outline of clothes on it. The cook came running in and saw the feet disappearing last of all, crossed himself and started praying. Right about that time, she heard muffled laughter. When she turned around, it hit her. She recognized the clothes, and the ghost's hair as well. The twins were both back at the table. The ghost was one of them. They were ghosts. Betty said she grabbed her purse and headed for the door, would've left and stayed gone if the manager hadn't picked that moment to come in and beg her to stay "just 'til the end of shift. Please oh please Betty." At first she kept on heading for the door, screw the manager. But after seeing them smirk at each other as she passed their table, she refused to let them scare her off from her job. She also refused to wait on them, shouting, "I'm not waiting on freaking ghosts, no way, not for 2.18 an hour." But eventually she did.  
  
Betty finished the story by saying that after the ghost incident every time she reluctantly checked them out they slipped her a hundred and told her it was for her, not the waitress. She decided that she could live with ghosts that were clean and tipped well. Eventually she became their regular waitress, it was easy work. They were unfailingly polite, meticulously clean, and never tried to chat her up. In fact, they had chased off a couple of drunks that were harassing her one night by simply walking up and asking "Is there a problem?"  
  
"So what do you know about them?" Killa had asked her after the story. "Do they talk to you?"  
  
"No, nothing besides what they want to eat. They don't talk much to each other neither. Maybe they don't have to." Betty shrugged her shoulders then smiled. "You don't fancy them do you?"  
  
"Umm, no, especially after that ghost story. Brrr." Killa made exaggerated shivering motions.  
  
"I dunno, might be worth it as long as they stay solid in bed." Betty laughed. "Though I'd not be the one to try it."  
  
"I've too much work to do to have a living boyfriend, a dead one is too complicated for me. I'm happy to watch them. Maybe they'll do their ghost routine sometime I'm here. I'd love to see a ghost." Killa said.  
  
"Not like the one I saw, no you wouldn't." Betty shivered, then changed the subject "So, what are you having?"  
  
Betty told her that story over a month ago, and so far the weirdest thing she'd see them do was wear the same clothes all the time. That was pretty weird since they had to be thirty or thirty-five. Her friends the Monroe twins, Bill and Ted, quit doing that in elementary school. It was freaky to see grown men dress alike. Maybe that was why they did it. 


	2. Are the Twins Pimps, Ghosts, or Aliens? ...

One pulled into the parking lot and immediately felt relief. They were glad this last job was over. Tonight they had delivered an exile to the Merovingian, one that they had been tracking for weeks. One looked at Two, but said nothing. There was no need. They could read each other's thoughts.  
  
"We didn't enjoy that assignment." Two thought. "The Merovingian gave us a choice."  
  
"We are formidable, that exile was weak. We're sad that we didn't get to blow anything up, that's all." One shot back.  
  
"Let's get some pancakes" was Two's only answer.  
  
They liked this place because it was clean, new and because the waitress didn't scare easily. The human's name was Betty. Most human's were terrified of them even if they hadn't seen them ghost, this one had seen One in ghost form, connected that it was One and screamed and cursed but still refused to leave her job. It was impressive, for a human.  
  
Plus she left them alone and they returned the favor. That was rare. Human females tended to find them attractive if they didn't find them terrifying. It annoyed One a great deal if the server, male or female, hit on them. Two grinned when he remembered the last place they'd eaten before they found this place. One had thrown his switchblade at a waitress who was giggling and whispering with the cook instead of bringing him his coffee. The girl moved at the last minute or she'd have got it in the back of the neck. Then the cook started screaming, the manager came running; it was a disaster.  
  
Betty treated them like any other customer. They tipped big. It worked out. After three AM the place was usually pretty empty. From four to five, it was deserted. That was their favorite time to come in. The only person they saw regularly was a girl. She sat in the back with a pile of books and seemed to ignore them, so they returned the favor. Then Two caught her smirking as she watched a pair of drunks trying to eat gravy with a fork. She was tricky about watching.  
  
Once she saw something she wanted to watch, she'd hold her book up like she was reading. Then she'd watch out of the corner of her eye between pages. She didn't watch all the time, so One thought it must be her way of taking a break. They tried to catch her watching them, but hadn't ever been certain she was until the night they'd worn tanks to the IHOP. They did it on purpose; they knew from long experience female humans enjoyed the forms the Merovingian gave them. It was one of the few nice things he did for them.  
  
One and Two liked to play jokes, liked to make the humans feel uncomfortable, liked to cause chaos big or small. They were by nature tricksters. The Merovingian made them assassins; it fit in well with their ability to create destruction, but it conflicted with their love of play. Before they were exiles, they were weather programs in charge of storms, tornados, hurricane, typhoons but also in charge of clear skies, spring rain, rainbows and fluffy clouds. They caused death, but they also brought natural beauty and innocent pleasure. The Merovingian had little use for natural beauty and innocent pleasure, but he valued them for their ability to create destruction.  
  
At first the girl couldn't stop glancing at them. To make it obvious they'd caught her looking, One and Two started flexing their muscles like they were in an infomercial for an exercise product. Two swore he'd caught her blushing, but One doubted it. By the time they left she was so deep into her studies she didn't even notice they were leaving. One was a bit irritated at that, not many females would pick books over them. Two felt curious about the girl. She was really not very attractive, as far as they could tell under all those baggy ugly clothes, but something about her interested them.  
  
They were forbidden from having humans as friends. Sex partners, of course, but friends were not allowed. The Merovingian viewed that as the precursor to betrayal. He said that was what caused the Oracle to side with the humans, and Seraph to betray him and serve her. The Merovingian seemed to view humans as weak and insignificant, then in the same breath, forbid his exiles any friendly contact with them. So, of course, when the Twins came to work for the Merovingian, they tried to make friends any chance they got, they were just really bad at it. Most of the time they were too busy to try anymore. Still, it bugged them that they hadn't been able to make a single friend, since nearly all humans had no trouble.  
  
Most humans avoided them, tried to have sex with them, or, occasionally, laughed at them. They tried making friends with women they picked up for sex. This did not work out well. Two remembered well the last time he tried that. He and the woman had wild all night sex and in the morning, when he told her he wanted to be friends, she had slapped his face and stalked out cursing at the top of her lungs. One had memories of similar circumstance.  
  
Maybe they could try with the girl. She could not be interested in sex, the way she dressed. But, she also didn't seem interested in companionship. She was always alone. They would ask Betty about her.  
  
One and Two walked into the IHOP but deliberately ignored the girl who appeared to be deep in her books. It was four-thirty AM, and the girl would leave before the breakfast rush began. They would have a few minutes to ask Betty about her then. Ever since One's stunt, the chances of becoming friends with Betty were nil. She was professional and obviously willing to overlook a lot for money, but even the Twins knew that friendship was more than paid tolerance.  
  
"Stop it Two. She is going to see you and then she will leave." One hissed at Two who kept looking over his shoulder at the girl often enough that Betty had noticed him and raised her eyebrows at them both.  
  
"I am not obvious. I am a trained" Two started to say, then shut up when Betty walked up. Both turned to look at her with expressionless faces.  
  
Betty looked at them for a second, then said "She asked about you guys."  
  
One looked at Two, Two looked at One. Neither said a word.  
  
"Ok, it just looked like your brother here was going to twist his head off trying to get a look." Betty said sarcastically, then indicated Two.  
  
"We had a neck cramp." Two said flatly. "We were trying to loosen it up."  
  
"Uh, right, ok, neck cramp. Sure." Betty smiled and started to walk away.  
  
"What did she ask?" One said quietly before she could leave.  
  
"She asked who you were and what I knew about you." Betty paused, "That's all."  
  
One smirked "And you told her what?"  
  
"The truth of course." Betty now looked irritated and a tiny bit worried.  
  
"Oh, great One. Now the girl knows we are not human. Just great." Two thought to One.  
  
"She won't believe it. They never do." One replied, irritated.  
  
"Why don't you talk to her yourself?" Betty said, "She's friendly but doesn't like to talk much, just like you two. I know she's studying to be a doctor, so she doesn't have much free time. Buy her breakfast. Oh, and take those sunglasses off, she asked if you guys were Albanians or something because you always wore those sunglasses."  
  
"We are not Albanians," One was livid, "and"  
  
"We are ready for our pancakes!" Two interjected.  
  
Betty, looking a little freaked, went to check on the food.  
  
"We are not switching restaurants because we can not control our temper!" Two thought at One furiously.  
  
One sat looking grumpy and annoyed. Neither of them saw the girl get up, check out and leave.  
  
"Where'd she go?" One thought to Two  
  
"Probably scared off by our grumpy face. We are facing her table." Two thought back.  
  
One looked uncomfortable and shifted about a bit. "We are tired of that question about our sunglasses. We are not albinos or Albanians, we just "  
  
"like them." Two finished, then sighed.  
  
"We could take them off in the IHOP, I guess. We are not working. Maybe humans would find us more friendly if we did." One's voice got a little more cheery.  
  
"Betty is honest. We could ask her what she thinks." Two said hopefully. Neither twin trusted anyone to give advice, normally. At the Château everyone was out for themselves only. They didn't have any friends. Who would they ask? The Oracle? She wouldn't help them, they worked for the Merovingian. They had to figure everything out by themselves. Most of the time the contact they had with other people and programs consisted of chasing, screaming, shooting, fighting etc-not the best way to develop social skills.  
  
Betty brought back two steaming plates of pancakes, set them down on the table and turned to leave.  
  
"Betty, do you think we'd seem more, umm, would we, why does it bother people for us to wear sunglasses?" One blurted out.  
  
Betty gave him a long look. "It's not just the sunglasses." She said, then waited to see how One would react. "Why do you care?"  
  
Which was a good question, Two thought, why did they care? He didn't know. Something about this place, Betty, the girl, made them feel sort of welcome. Nobody messed with them. Nobody even wanted to mess with them.  
  
One just kept looking at her, until Betty sighed and pulled up a chair.  
  
"Ok, it's like this. People don't trust people who hide their eyes. You know it's intimidating, that's why you do it, right?"  
  
"Right." One answered. "But why does it intimidate them?"  
  
"It's the whole package, sweetie. How many people do you see dressed like you two always do? Plus you match. Most grown-up twins don't wear matching clothing. The first time I saw you guys, I thought you were pimps." Betty paused. "Then I thought you were pimp ghosts. Now I don't know what the hell you are, but I know it's not like everyone else."  
  
"Pimps?" Two asked incredulously. "You thought we were pimps?"  
  
"Pimps." Betty affirmed.  
  
"Why did you think we were pimps?" Two asked. One was silently struggling with his temper. They'd asked.  
  
"Well, you both looked mean, sexy and over-dressed. You wear matching big flashy rings." One and Two self-consciously covered the ring that signaled them as the Merovingian's henchmen. They hated the big gaudy thing. "You only show up after four AM, usually most hookers are off work by then. I mean, why would anyone else be out at four looking like you guys? Do you see anyone else in here looking like that?"  
  
One and Two sat in stunned silence. Her words actually made sense. They did look like pimps.  
  
"Oh, and sometimes you wear regular clothes, but when you dress up it is always in that same outfit. I knew a pimp once who always wore a purple jacket. Said it made him easier for the girls to spot. I figured that's what you were doing."  
  
"We are not pimps." One said sounding very, very calm and enunciating every word so it sounded more like "We Are Not Pimps."  
  
"Lookit, you asked." Betty said then started to get up.  
  
"We're sorry, please stay." Two said. "We aren't pimps." One looked stunned, Two never apologized.  
  
"Well, I KNOW you're not pimps." Betty said and then looked at One who looked as innocent as possible. "But, yeah, that's what you look like."  
  
"What would we need to do to look more, more" What One wanted to say was human.  
  
"Friendly?" Betty supplied.  
  
"Yes, friendly." One answered.  
  
"You really want to know? You won't get mad?" Betty said nervously.  
  
"Yes. And we promise not to act mad." One said, mainly because Two was giving him A Look.  
  
"Well, first of all, no jokes." Betty paused and looked at One. He gazed at her peacefully, the very picture of innocence.  
  
"You've got to stop wearing matching outfits. It's weird. Take off your sunglasses. Smile."  
  
One smiled at her but it came off looking more like a grimace of pain. They both took off their glasses. Their eyes were a brilliant Coke bottle green. Betty looked at them appraisingly.  
  
"You should wear green, maybe blue, some other color besides gray. If you simply have to wear sunglasses inside, after dark, wear tinted lenses that people can see through. It's hard to trust someone if you can't see their eyes. It looks like they are hiding something. Try not to wear that uniform all the time; it's too fancy for the IHOP. Jeans and T-shirt, something like that."  
  
Betty paused and looked at One to see if he was getting angry. He seemed calm, so she continued.  
  
"You guys sit here silently and never talk. You stare at each other. Umm, I don't know how to say this, but, umm, that's not how most brothers, umm, act." Betty was clearly uncomfortable with this statement, but One and Two had no idea why.  
  
"What do you mean?" One asked. "How do brothers behave?"  
  
Betty leaned back, then forward, a worried look on her face. "Uh, you don't know?"  
  
One and Two shrugged.  
  
"Ok, well, are you guys from another planet? Are you? It's ok if you are, I just gotta know, are you? That would explain a lot. I won't tell, and I'll help you learn how to behave human because right now you guys suck at it." Betty says this all in a rush then stands up like she's getting ready to run.  
  
One looked at Two, thought "What do we say?"  
  
Two paused, then thought back "She's going to give us useful information. We say yes."  
  
"Yes we are." One said solemnly.  
  
Betty's eyes got as big as pancakes. "Ohmigod." She sat down heavily in the chair. "Aliens in the IHOP. Why are you here, what is your purpose?"  
  
"Our ship crashed." Two said. "We are stuck here."  
  
"No one is coming for you?" Betty said sadly.  
  
"No, it is not our way." Two intoned.  
  
"It is not our way?" One snickered mentally to Two. "You sound like an excerpt from Mystery Science Theatre 3000. 'It is not the way of the Pod people of planet Borzon.'"  
  
"Do you think you could help us fit in?" Two asked hopefully.  
  
"Sure thing, guys. Try some of what I suggested, then tell me how it works for you. Hey, I have to get back to work, the breakfast rush is about to start." Betty hurried back to the kitchen, smiling. Aliens, she knew real aliens. Cool. 


	3. Killa's friends are worried

Killa was sick of studying. Just two more finals and she was done. All this week she'd studied with her study group in the library. The university changed the library hours to 24 hours the last two weeks of school. She liked her study group, but sometimes they were a little intense even for her. Killa sighed.  
  
The sound was faint, but Killa still recognized it. Then she saw heads popping up in study corrals on the far side of the library. They looked pissed. She couldn't see her friends yet, but she could hear them just fine.  
  
"Beer Break! Killa! Time for your Beer Break! Killa!" Everyone at the table turned and glared at her as Killa slunk away to deal with her crazy friends.  
  
There were four of them, Katie, Liz, Toby and Kiko, the rest were probably still at the club. It was 11:30PM and all of them except Kiko looked drunk. Killa held her finger up to her lips but couldn't keep herself from smiling.  
  
"C'mon Killa. If you don't come with us, we're going to start singing One Thousand Bottles of beer on the wall." Toby shouted.  
  
"One thousand bottles of beer on the wall, one thousand bottles of beer.." All of them except Kiko started singing at the top of their lungs. Kiko shrugged and looked embarrassed.  
  
"Look guys, I can't go out like this. I have on sweats, I need to study.." Killa said.  
  
"We have clothes!!!!!" Katie shouted.  
  
"We have makeup. And shoes!!!!!" Liz added.  
  
"Hair gel! Glitter!" They started pulling stuff out of a big bag and tossing it to Killa. The whole time this was happening, Toby kept on singing that hideous song.  
  
Toby paused, "Killa, you have 4.0, you need a break. A BEEEER BREEEAAKKKK!!!!" then launched back into the song.  
  
Killa looked nervously at her study group, which looked back really pissed. "I don't think they'll leave unless I go with them. I don't want them to get in trouble. I'll see you guys tomorrow, ok?" The group still looked ticked. Killa leaned over and touched Edgar on the arm "You guys are the best. I'm sorry they're so loud." Edgar had a huge crush on her so he smiled and said "That's ok Killa. Drink one for me." The rest of the group went back to studying.  
  
"Ok, I'm going with you now shut up!" Her friends got a bit quieter, at least the singing stopped. "Where are we going?" Toby started singing Boogie Fever but stopped when Killa glared at him. "Disco" they all said at the same time.  
  
Later in the library restroom Killa looked at what her friends brought her to wear. Her and Liz wore the same size, even the same shoe size, but they didn't have the same style at all. Liz was a fashion design major and she liked her clothes bright, short, sexy, tight-mostly the opposite of what Killa liked. The only thing they both liked was leather, especially leather pants. Killa could breath in hers though, and they were brown not black. All the clothes they brought her belonged to Liz. Her choices were: A super short hot pink mini skirt--No A purple pleather mini dress-No A pair of skintight black leather pants-Gulp!! A silver mesh see through halter-Hell No! A teeny gray satin cami-Uhhh? One pair of black high-heeled leather boots.-Ok One pair of hot pink stiletto heels-Hell No!  
  
After Killa dressed, Liz braided her hair and did her makeup. Killa didn't even look in the mirror; she knew she'd feel uncomfortable. It was just for a couple of hours, no big deal.  
  
Killa stepped out of the bathroom and Toby's jaw dropped "Whoa." "Shut your trap Toby." Killa said and glared at him. Toby shut up. Killa had a death glare that could dry paint.  
  
Once she got to the club, danced and had a few drinks, Killa began to feel more relaxed. She was ready for her exams. The one tomorrow wasn't until two PM, so she could sleep in. She needed another beer.  
  
By the time the bartender shouted "Last Call!!!" Killa was pretty drunk. Her friends had bought her drink after drink. Kiko and Julio were the designated drivers, so the rest could party as much as they wanted. Killa got a lot louder and a lot more outgoing when she had been drinking.  
  
"I am so huuunggrryy." Toby whined. "Must eat now. No little food. Must have waffles. Need Waffles."  
  
Katie joined in "I'm hungry too. Julio, please take us to the IHOP. Please please please." Julio was her boyfriend and he was a really nice guy. He smiled, then asked "Ihop?" Everybody agreed.  
  
They finally got to the IHOP at three AM. First Katie needed to fix her shoe, then Liz saw a friend of hers. By the time they arrived, the worst of the bar rush was over but there were still quite a few tables full. Killa's favorite was taken, so they let the waitress seat them wherever.  
  
While they were waiting for their food, the Twins walked in. Betty walked over and seated them next to Killa's table of eight loud mostly drunk college students. One's jaw tightened and Two turned to Betty and asked her if they could sit elsewhere.  
  
"Your friend's in that bunch, that girl you asked about. I thought you might like a look her." Betty said then grinned. Right about this time Killa stood up on her chair and started to sing. "Night fever, night fever. We know how to show it." while the rest of the table whooped and whistled. Killa's chair was a few feet away from One's side of the booth. Both twins stared at her in amazement. Was this the same quiet girl?  
  
Killa was on the last stanza "here I am, prayin' for this moment to last." Killa was shakin' what her momma gave her so hard the chair tipped over and she landed bottom first in One's lap.  
  
"Uh, hi there! I know you. Oooo, nice glasses. I like those way better than those sunglasses you used to wear." One looked a little stunned as Killa took off his new glasses and tried them on herself.  
  
"Hey guys! What do you think?" Killa looked over at her friends who had gotten quiet. She looked over at Two who was making a very scary mad face (kinda of like the one he had right before he phased in Reloaded) and gave him a huge smile and said "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to fall. Your brother makes a good cushion though!" She then turned to One, put an arm around his neck and kissed him on the cheek. "Thank you! Oooo, pretty eyes. I love green eyes." One raised his eyebrows at Two and looked smug as hell. Two looked even more ticked.  
  
"Um, Killa, maybe you should, uh, get back to your own seat." Julio said in a shaky voice.  
  
"But I like this one." Killa said with a grin. "Ok, ok." Killa slid off One's lap, walked back to her seat and sat down with a sigh. One looked over at Two and smirked.  
  
"We have pretty eyes. We make a nice cushion. We have good taste in glasses." One thought to Two as he touched his cheek where Killa kissed him. "We got a kiss."  
  
Two's death glare was back and the people at Killa's table who could see it became very, very quiet. Killa couldn't understand what was wrong with her friends.  
  
" It was an accident. If we had sat there, we would have gotten the female's attentions." Two thought back.  
  
"Maybe. But we got a kiss. She didn't have to kiss us." One thought back.  
  
The edges of Two's mouth turned down, the scowl becoming worse. He was now glaring at the back of Killa's head. Killa's friends stopped talking completely. Killa turned around to see what they were staring at. She looked at Two and assumed he was mad at her for disrupting their meal.  
  
"I really am sorry I fell. Can I buy you guys' breakfast? Please don't be mad at me." Two's scowl faded until he was back to his usual expressionless face. He looked at her, she really was a lot prettier than he first thought. On impulse he said "We'll forgive you if you eat with us."  
  
Killa smiled, grabbed her food and sat down next to Two. Her friends looked worried and started to say something to her but stopped when they saw Two glaring at them.  
  
"I see you guys in here pretty often. Why do you work so late? Hey, you're not wearing your uniform. This must be your off day, right? Ooo, I like your shirt, blue looks good on you. Oh, and you're not wearing the same clothes, that's much better." Killa stopped, looked embarrassed, then said "I talk too much when I drink. Sorry." She smiled at Two and he gave a half smirk back to her. It looked like the guy didn't know HOW to smile. If she'd been sober, it might have worried her.  
  
Toby was worried about Killa. They'd been friends since grade school and he thought of her like a little sister. She'd finished her pancakes and now was looking sleepy. Killa could fall asleep anywhere, fell asleep on anybody-he'd seen her do it and had to get her out of a few situations where the guy thought Killa meant more by it than she did. She was smart, she never got drunk unless her friends were around to watch over her and ever since that last boyfriend got her interested in martial arts, Killa religiously worked out at her dojo. She could probably defend herself by now. But those guys were big, looked mean and dangerous. Toby used to street fight for money in high school until he got busted and the judge told him any more offenses would go on his permanent record. He knew what that meant-no college would touch him, at least none of the good ones. While he was fighting he'd learned to separate the ones that acted tough, but cried when they got hit, from the ones that would cut your throat for a nickel. He avoided fighting them, and that was exactly what the guys Killa was sitting with looked like, guys who'd cut your throat for fun. Shit.  
  
Two looked down at Killa. She leaned against his shoulder and looked like she was falling asleep. He shifted in the booth until his back was sort of to the wall to give her some room, but instead of waking up she sighed and fell asleep on his chest. So he put his arm around her and looked over at One feeling very self-satisfied indeed.  
  
"She has fallen asleep on our chest. Clearly she trusts us. It is not so hard." He thought to Two.  
  
"That's what we say now, let's see what we say after she wakes up." One thought back.  
  
Two remembered waking up next to women who looked scared. He'd not hurt them, much. They went to the chateau with him willingly and he didn't force them to do anything they didn't want to do, he couldn't figure out why they suddenly became scared. He looked down at Killa again. He didn't like to think of her looking scared of him. It didn't seem like much scared her.  
  
"Her friends do not like us." One said as well.  
  
"Should we get rid of them?" Two asked. It wouldn't be hard.  
  
The Twins didn't spend a lot of time examining how their actions affected other people; they wanted something, they took it. Something got in the way; they shot it. They were interested in Killa mainly because she didn't seem afraid of them. That was why they'd started talking to Betty.  
  
One thought for a moment. "We think Killa wouldn't like that."  
  
"Well, she wouldn't have to know, would she? We could make it an accident." Two thought back scowling.  
  
While the Twins were having their thought fight, Killa began to gently snore. At first it was just a quiet sniffle, but then it burst into full snore. It was not a loud snore, but it was definitely a snore. Two looked down at Killa with curiosity on his face. Killa woke herself up a bit, then snuggled in and went back to sleep.  
  
"We could find out their addresses and send them free airline tickets on the same flight then sabotage it." Two thought to One "That would eliminate the whole lot of them."  
  
The friends and the Twins were in a sort of standoff waiting for Killa to wake up. No one had enough guts to ask the Twins for Killa, Two kept glaring at anyone who even looked at them, let alone spoke to them. But they weren't leaving their friend either. So both groups got more and more irritated with each other and just kept on ordering more coffee.  
  
"Don't you think she'd figure that out? It's just the oldest trick in the book." One thought back. "She's not stupid Two."  
  
"What, we think she has a side job as an assassin somewhere. College student by day, assassin by night? She'd think it was an accident." Two looked irritated.  
  
"Let's ask Betty." One suggested. "She gave good advice on clothes. Killa complimented us on our clothes. And OUR glasses." One added smugly.  
  
"How do we do that? They will hear." Two thought, then nodded at the friends.  
  
"We'll get up and ask her." One slid out of the booth and stood up. The friends visibly cringed as he walked by blank faced, staring at them as he passed. Betty was doing sidework over by the register.  
  
"Betty, may we ask you a question?" One asked politely.  
  
"Sure thing sweetie. Looks like you've completely blown your chances with that one." Betty said. "I was going to intervene, but I think it's beyond repair by now."  
  
One blinked, then said, "How do we get rid of Killa's friends? They are not fond of us."  
  
"Well, that's an understatement. What's not to like? You've got a hold of their good friend and scared them all shitless until they figure you're going to either hurt them or their friend. They think that you intend to, umm, take advantage of that girls' drunken foolishness. They're not leaving their friend and you guys are making it worse by refusing to talk to them. Put yourself in their shoes." Betty put her hands on her hips and looked One right in the eye. :"You need to learn to work people instead of just taking what you want and not caring how it makes them feel."  
  
One looked down at her and thought about what she said. The only person he really cared about was his brother. He imagined his brother being held by agents and how he would feel about that. Even if they were not hurting Two and, for some bizarre reason Two wanted to be with them, it would still worry him because he would know that they could hurt Two. He wouldn't want to leave Two with them, and he wouldn't like it one bit. In fact he would be very angry with Two.  
  
" Is there anything we can do to fix it?" One asked and sighed. "We do not mean to hurt them or her."  
  
Betty thought for a second and said, "Buy their breakfasts, that will help. Act like you're sobering up yourself, humans are willing to excuse some bad behavior if you are drunk. Umm, when you get back to the table, lean over and ask them if they are ready to leave. Yes. Tell them that you need to go and that you didn't mind their friend sleeping over, but it's time for her to go home."  
  
Betty paused and looked at One to see of he was getting mad. He was listening intently so she continued. "Offer to carry their friend out to the car for them. Use your British accent; everyone loves that accent. Try to be friendly, if you can. Half their dislike is fear; you haven't really done anything to them. DO NOT ask for or accept the girl's phone number, email or other contact. If she offers it to you, politely refuse otherwise you will never see her in here again. Her friends will see to that. You want to make them think you are not interested her. Then, when she comes back to the IHOP, you can talk to her without the friends' interference. Got it?"  
  
"Got it." One said.  
  
"Oh, and I'll come over in a minute and compliment you guys. I'm going to be lying through my teeth to help you, so don't look surprised, just go along with it, ok?" Betty paused. "You won't hurt that girl, will you? I won't help you hurt anyone."  
  
One looked Betty right in the eye and said, "No, we promise not to hurt her. Or her annoying friends."  
  
One paid for everyone's meal then walked back to the table. As he passed the friends, he tried to smile. It looked a little less like a grimace, but it was still clearly alarming. Two was in a staring match with Toby while he stroked Killa's cheek. This was bad.  
  
Two looked up and scanned the contents of the conversation from One's memory. He didn't look pleased, but he would comply. He looked back at Toby and said softly and politely "We need to leave. Your friend has been interesting company, but it's time for her to go home." He then smiled at Toby and it actually looked something like a smile. Two practiced last night in the mirror until he could do a fair imitation of a smile. It still had smirk-like qualities, but it would pass.  
  
Toby smiled back and said "Yeah, she has a tendency to do that if she's been drinking. She doesn't mean anything by it. She seems to know you guys too?" Toby wanted to find out where Killa met them.  
  
"We come here to eat a few times a week. Sometimes we see her in here studying. We've never spoken to her before, she seems like a good student." Two felt proud. He sounded plausibly harmless.  
  
"We really must be going." One added. "If you are ready, we will carry her out to your car for you?" He paused for a second and added "We apologize if we seemed rude earlier, we had a bit too much to drink and fancied a quiet bite before returning home. Your friend is usually a bit quieter, the IHOP is usually a bit quieter."  
  
The friends looked embarrassed and began to mumble apologies of their own. Maybe these guys weren't so bad. Right then Betty walked up with a to go box. She handed it to Two and said "Here are your pancakes for your mother. I hope she recovers. You are so good to take care of her with your busy schedules." Two nodded. Betty then turned to One, said, "Such good boys" then pinched his cheek. One looked startled.  
  
Two handed Killa to One as he slid out of the booth, then, of course, took her back. One felt less than pleased about that, but took pains not to show it. When they got outside, it was cold. Killa didn't have coat and started to shiver, then woke up.  
  
"I'm cold." She moaned. "I don't feel so good." She looked up at Two, then smiled. "I know you, you're one of the twins that always eats at the IHOP. Why are you carrying me?" She looked around then saw her friends. Toby was right next to her.  
  
"You fell into that guy's lap," he said pointing to One, "then fell asleep on that one's chest." He told her. Killa had the grace to blush.  
  
One handed her his leather jacket. When she protested he simply said "Give it to Betty the next time you're in the IHOP. She'll get it to us." By that time they were at the car; Two put her down and made sure she was ok. Killa looked up at him as she pulled One's leather jacket around her, then got a mischievous look on her face. She wrapped both arms around his neck and kissed him briefly on the lips then hopped in the car blushing furiously.  
  
Toby sighed, waved to a thoughtful looking Two, then got in on the drivers' side and started the car.  
  
Two turned to One and said "We got a kiss on the lips." 


	4. Fun with Laundry!

Killa woke up with a throbbing headache and only a patchy idea of what happened last night. Rolling over onto her back, she stared up at the ceiling and tried to remember how she came to wake up wrapped in a very nice leather jacket several sizes too big for her. Whose was it? At least she still had all her clothes on; so far limiting her partying to groups had kept her out of that kind of morning surprise.  
  
Oh, God, now she remembered. The singing. The fall. Both kisses. The jacket- she had to go back to the IHOP. Ohhhh. Killa rolled up into a ball of embarrassment, then looked at the clock to see what time it was-11:30 AM. Ohhhh, a final in four hours, plus she was supposed to go to the dojo with Kiko and her uncle at noon to work out. Great. She rolled out of bed and staggered over to the closet to grab her workout gear.  
  
Killa lived in the attic apartment of a big three story Victorian house. The way it worked was each person had a locked suite of three rooms of varying sizes, but had to share the kitchen, common room, balcony, porch, and laundry room. First and second floor bathrooms only, nothing on the third floor, which sucked. But, it also meant she had the attic to herself, since there was only the one apartment up there. The rest was storage. Her living room also had a small balcony, just big enough for four people, or one very lazy Killa in a hammock. The place rocked, and it was cheap considering the space and privacy she had.  
  
But, she had to share the house with: six cats(two belonged to her), a parrot, a ferret, two dogs, five regular roommates and their various boyfriends and girlfriends; and one insane landlady who lived in the backyard in the former servants quarters. On the one hand, she always had a funny story to tell, but on the other, she was living in the funny story and that wasn't always so funny, sometimes it was just crazy. As soon as the lease was up in August she planned to move in with Toby and Kiko.  
  
Killa stumbled downstairs and into the bathroom that was, thankfully, empty. After her shower she felt better, but she really needed to hoof it if she was going to catch the subway and be to the dojo on time. Kiko talked about her uncle all the time and Killa couldn't wait to meet him. If he was as good as Kiko said, she should get a good workout.  
  
Bob was in the kitchen, God he was slow, and making another of his disgusting raw egg shakes. Ewww. No smoothie then. Opening the freezer with her foot, she scanned the contents at the same time as she poured a cup of coffee.  
  
"Killa, would you please keep your feet off the appliances. You know it repulses me." Bob said wearily.  
  
"Sorry Bob. I forgot."  
  
"You always forget. You do that all the time." Bob replied grumpily. He just didn't, probably couldn't, understand what it was like to have feet nearly as useful as hands, Killa mused. Ever since her ex-boyfriend Kolby introduced her three years ago to Shotokan karate, jujitsu, and a variety of other forms of Martial arts, Killa had learned to use her entire body. She all but hummed with health and energy.  
  
"Sorry Bob, See you later!" Killa ran out the side door holding two hotpockets, a cup of coffee heavily laced with sugar, and her backpack along with a couple of apples and a handful of string cheese shoved in the pockets of the leather coat she'd borrowed. She liked the coat and figured she'd wear it until she had to give it back. It smelled nice, like leather and mint. Fresh, clean, masculine.  
  
Two kept thinking about the kiss. It hadn't been much of a kiss, but he'd felt, hmm, amused by it? He couldn't put his finger on it, but it was different from the women at Club Hell and the Merovingian's restaurant. Many of them were no older, some were even younger than Killa but they felt somehow weary? Jaded? He wasn't sure what the difference was. One felt the same way, they both thought about the IHOP girl off and on all morning.  
  
"She will return our coat." One thought to Two. "We will see her then."  
  
"She may leave it with Betty." Two thought back.  
  
"Yes, but she will be curious. We will see her again." One's quiet confidence soothed his twin. Two was nervous; the Merovingian was in a snit about their repeated refusal to accompany him on his holiday. The twins worked for the Frenchman, they were not exactly his slaves. They had free will, but there were consequences for their actions, and some consequences were quite unpleasant. The Merovingian generally did not push them because they were powerful, and they generally obeyed the Merovingian because it was likely that he was more powerful than them. Not certain, but very likely. The arrangement wasn't perfect, but it was better than deletion or running from agents all the time.  
  
This time the Merovingian was stuck. He promised them last year they would not be required to accompany him and Persephone on vacation this summer. That duty was supposed to be rotated out among the bodyguards, as it was particularly awful. The Merovingian snatched and grabbed at any nubile female in reach and as a result Persephone could be depended on to initiate any number of plots and strategies designed to hurt, main or kill the Merovingian. This was not unusual at the chateau as well, but on vacation you added unfamiliar circumstances, a variety of kitchens(all of which could potentially be bribed to poison the Merovingian), a variety of sex partners(any number of which could be assassins) and all the other unexpected travel trials that even humans had to deal with. The twins had accompanied the Merovingian the last two years in a row, and, to be fair to the Merovingian, were given hefty information bonuses that boosted their knowledge and skills. The Merovingian did pay well in the coin of programs: information and power.  
  
The twins were his most efficient, powerful and conscientious bodyguards, so of course he wanted them with him at all times, but they also hated vacation duty with a passion and recently had begun to feel unhappy with their duties in general. It was time for a break. This morning they told him to take Cain and Able, it was their turn. The vampires hissed at them when they told them the news. The duty really was a chore.  
  
So, for the next few days, the Merovingian would be hard to deal with. He would send them out on fool's errands, like laundry or any number of what he thought were humiliating duties. The twins didn't care, work was work and there were always people around to annoy, infuriate or just plain scare the hell out of. Right now they were having what Two liked to call Fun With Laundry. Rather than do the Chateau's laundry at the Chateau, they picked a downtown Laundromat that served alcohol and did it there.  
  
They did a bang up job at laundry, like anything else, and they actually liked the duty better than some others. They had several requirements for the Laundromat: one it had to be really really busy, two it had to cater to a varied clientele, three it had to have a bar in it, four it had to allow park and load/unload on a very busy street preferably in front of the Laundromat's big plate glass window, five it had to be unattended except for the bar, six it had to be really really big as they would have a ton of laundry to do.  
  
Right now the Chateau had about fifty or so occupants. It was, simply put, a truckload of laundry. So they rented a truck. A long, wide truck perfect for blocking traffic.  
  
They arrived right as the Laundromat was opening, 7:30AM, rush hour, and parked half in, half out of the loading zone parking space. This closed down the road from three lanes to one and one half, almost enough to squeeze two cars through. This was guaranteed to cause a wreck, as at least one human would get frustrated enough and convince himself his car would fit through the half slot. The twins then loaded up every single washing machine in the entire building. This took a little while, and they saw no reason to hurry. Usually there was at least one wreck, sometimes an entire pile-up would occur, and they would emerge from the building to screams and honking horns and cursing. Laundry was fun!  
  
After they moved the truck, they went to the bar and ordered beer after beer and proceeded to act hammered. They spilled soap on people. They sang. They hit on any adult female who came in the building. They practiced karate moves. As new patrons entered, they would size them up and figure out how best to annoy them, bring them to tears or cause a fight. Their finest moment today came when they provoked a fistfight between two senior citizens over which was the best laundry soap. Mostly they told people they were almost done, for hours.  
  
It was now 11:30 and the Laundromat was filled with angry people. The twins were mostly done; the final load was in the dryer. Two looked over at One and thought "Now?"  
  
One thought back, "Sure."  
  
Many Americans were homophobes, and incest is a taboo for nearly every culture. Although the twins were basically two aspects of one program and functioned as one person in many ways, they were not sexually intimate. But they learned quick that pretending to be was a sure fire way to make everyone uncomfortable as hell. It kept EVERYONE out of their quarters at the chateau, it worked like a charm. Two peeled off his shirt and turned his back to One. One ran his hands over his brother's shoulders and began massaging them. Two started moaning. "Yes, that's it. We like that."  
  
"Mommy, what are those two men doing?" The young mothers cracked first, hurried out with their children's eyes covered.  
  
Two started moaning louder. "Oh, yes. I can't wait 'til we get home." The men grabbed their stuff and headed out.  
  
Everyone else headed for the door when One leaned in and acted like he was going to kiss Two. After the Laundromat was empty, the twins packed up the rest of the laundry and went out to look for a summer place.  
  
The Twins didn't think a lot about their motivation for staying, or for deciding to get an apartment in the city away from the Chateau for the three months the Merovingian would be gone. Part of it was the infighting that would start as soon as the Merovingian's car pulled out of the driveway. When they returned last year, half the other exiles were dead. But part of it was the sudden need for privacy the two felt almost instinctively. They knew that Killa would not be safe at the chateau, and it also wouldn't be safe if the exiles at the chateau learned of what they hoped, with luck, would be their relationship with her. They were looking at available flats right now.  
  
"This one looks good, Two. Listen to this: Large loft over downtown dojo. Free workout privileges. Karate instructors given reduced rent in exchange for classes taught." Both twins grinned evilly at the thought of teaching humans karate. 


	5. At the dojo

"It's in a pleasant enough location, isn't?" Two said sarcastically to his brother. "This place is a waste of our time, we will not want to live here." The dojo was smack in the middle of the city, sort of off to the side of downtown in a slightly dilapidated building. Baking hot, no doubt, there didn't seem to be any indication of air conditioning in either the dojo itself, or the flat upstairs. Only two kinds of people would work out here-serious martial artists, if the sensei was any good, or people too poor to afford anything else, or a combination of the two.  
  
"Shall we see for ourselves before we make snap judgments?" One said. "Perhaps it will meet our needs, we can modify the programming of the place to make it more comfortable. It won't hurt to look."  
  
Two's silence was as good as a yes, so One parked the car in front. They walked into the building and looked around. It was bare and plain, but not as baking hot as they'd expected. Most of the dojo was hardwood, but at the back there was a section of the floor that was padded. A portion of the white wall on both sides of the blue padded area held a variety of weapons. Functional, clean, simple, well-maintained, the twins began to reassess their impression. Maybe they would enjoy this place.  
  
Next to the entrance was a small office, they looked inside and saw an ancient appearing program typing on a computer, a middle-aged man looking over his shoulder while a beautiful young woman filed paperwork. The middle-aged man had some anomalous readings about him, ah, there it was, he was half program, half human. The program must be his father. The girl was Killa's quiet friend from the night before. Two looked at her carefully, yes, there it was as well. She was mostly human, but still had some qualities of a program. The old man must be her grandfather, the middle-aged one her father. Fascinating. Two had heard of programs breeding and living with humans, but had never met a family of that kind before before. A few of the Mero's men had liaisons with human females, and some had resulted in offspring, but they attempted to keep it secret. The Merovingian did not care for on-going associations with humans.  
  
Kadoya heard Kiko's gasp and looked up from the computer. The Merovingian's henchman, he recognized the rings. Fluidly he rose and faced them, then smiled a greeting.  
  
"What may I do for you gentlemen?"  
  
"We are here to inquire about the flat and the job. We are well-qualified to teach any martial arts you choose." One stated flatly.  
  
Kadoya looked at the two. Perhaps. What did they want with this place? It appeared they intended to play human, he would go along for the sake of his granddaughter. She still had no awareness of the Matrix, which suited him just fine. "A class is about to start. You may teach it. Let us see how you do."  
  
One and Two nodded, then walked to the dressing room to change. They phased into white jackets edged with gray, and white pants. When they emerged, they saw Killa warming up. One looked at Two and both programs felt interested. "This girl is full of surprises," they thought.  
  
Kadoya could tell Killa was excited about today's class. He had told her there were going to be two new teachers and that she would find them a challenge. He thought she unconsciously held back because she was afraid of hurting him in his guise as an old man. It would be interesting to see what she could do. He remembered her first coming in here with that boyfriend of hers; she had been the better student. More flexible, more disciplined, more fearless. She quickly overtook him. Kolby was his name, a boy named after a cheese. Repulsive.  
  
Then the boy got unplugged. Instead of following the rules and disappearing from his life, he kept seeing Killa at the dojo. Using his rebel training unfairly, the boy punished her after he was unplugged. Disgusting, unfair and, for Killa, puzzling. How had he made such progress so quickly? Killa refused to give up; she pushed herself even harder. Kadoya took her under his wing and began to train her in the mind-body techniques she needed, but he had little hope of them working with an unplugged human. One day Killa finally had enough and punished back. He never saw the boy again after that, and he never saw Killa perform at that level again either. Today should be interesting. Those two had little pity from what he could see, they'd push her, he'd make certain of it.  
  
Kadoya intercepted One and Two, motioning them over to the side.  
  
"This class is the advanced class. Today we are sparring. You will each take turns partnering the students, pointing out areas for improvement and growth. I expect you to push the students, especially that girl." Kadoya pointed to Killa. "She does not perform to the limit of her abilities. Your job is dependent on your ability to bring out each student's potential. If I see you bring out hers, the job is yours. This is a traditional dojo; pain is to be managed, not avoided. Minor injuries are expected, major ones are unacceptable." He didn't want them to hurt Killa.  
  
"Of course." One replied. Did the old program think they were fools? More likely he wanted to make sure they did not kill any of his students.  
  
"Do you want to take her Two?" One thought.  
  
Two looked at his brother and grinned. "We'll let her pick." They watched Killa stretch. "At least she is flexible. That should prove pleasant." Two put more than one meaning into that statement. Killa was obviously in her own world preparing for sparring both mentally and physically. She still hadn't noticed them.  
  
Killa looked up from the mat and recognized her new teachers. "Oh, god" she thought, "not them." Embarrassment rolled over her. Kiko, stretching next to her, gave her a look, then whispered "Grandfather told them to push you. I heard him talking to uncle; they are here for the apartment and the job. If they get you to perform to your level, they get the job, otherwise they get nothing." Killa thought about that for a second. If they were her teachers she could satisfy her curiosity about them easily.  
  
Her limits though, God. She remembered what happened last time. It still showed up in her dreams. She started hallucinating that last time she fought Kolby. Later that evening he showed up at her house and tried to force her to take drugs. She managed to fight him off, then he disappeared for good. "Get a grip Killa, they were just dreams" she told herself. She began her centering exercises and greeted the new teachers along with the rest of the students. "How can they both be so good-looking? Arrgh. Center Killa!" She told herself sternly, then got down to business. If she wanted to see them anywhere else besides the IHOP, she'd better do her best.  
  
"Today we will spar with you. Warm-up well." the slightly stockier one said. What were their names? Doh! Did they expect people to read their minds? Killa thought.  
  
"My name is One and this is Two." No way. These guys were so weird. Or they had parents with a weird sense of humor.  
  
"Enough, concentrate Killa," she whispered to herself, "plenty of time for that later." In her mind she began to both eliminate the distractions of the outside world and enhance her sensitivity to external stimuli.  
  
"I am ready," she told them flatly.  
  
"Which one do you wish to spar with?" One inquired politely.  
  
"You."  
  
He looked slightly irritated that she did not acknowledge him as sensei. Oh well. They both stepped onto the mat and assumed a fighting stance.  
  
"Begin." Two said.  
  
As soon as he said the word, Killa attacked. She was fast, for a human. One easily blocked her kick and followed it with a strike to her abdomen. He was surprised when she managed to block it and dodge out of the way to come back with another kick, this time to the back of his leg. He stepped out of the way, expecting her to fall but she turned and followed with a punch to his back, which he blocked a little less easily. She had him on the defensive; that was new, usually he was on the offensive.  
  
He spun away from her and she followed him across the mat aiming another blow at his abdomen, this time it connected. It didn't hurt, but it surprised the program.  
  
Killa stepped back and waited to see what he would do, giving him some room. So far, no big deal. She knew he could do better than that. Maybe he was holding back because she was a girl, God, she hated when guys did that. Disappointing when they seemed otherwise so great. "Here he comes, focus," she thought.  
  
One attacked first this time using more of his strength, but not all of it, and most of his speed. It had been a long time since he'd fought without phasing and he realized that he'd gotten lazy at blocking. Why block when you can just phase? He feinted a blow to her face, then followed it up with a kick that barely caught the front of her face splitting her lip. Blood trickled down her chin, but if anything she looked more determined. One started to really like her; she had guts.  
  
"Is that a smile on his face?" Killa thought, then suddenly became pissed. She licked her lips and tasted blood. Great, just in time for her finals. A split lip. She took a fighting stance, waited for him to come to her.  
  
One attacked again, but this time she moved as fast as a rebel, blocked his blow, spun and kicked him hard enough in the abdomen to send him flying across the mat. She ran after him, leaped in the air and would have stomped him if he hadn't moved. He grabbed at her legs, tripped her, then threw her down on the mat and straddled her. She looked absolutely furious.  
  
He took the edge of his jacket and cleaned the blood off her chin. As her breathing slowed she calmed. Rubbing his abdomen, he said, "I'll have a foot sized bruise there tomorrow. Thanks." She laughed, then replied, "And all my friends will think I've been in a fight, and lost." One touched her lip and phased the tip of his finger slightly to close the wound. "Sorry, didn't mean to hurt you. We don't think it's as bad as you think, it's mostly just a bit swollen. You're a good fighter."  
  
Killa looked up at him and felt pleased. He'd fought her like an equal; beat her fair and square. Suddenly she became aware of his weight on top of her, remembered kissing his cheek and then started to blush. He was still stroking her bottom lip with his finger, a curiously intent look on his face. It didn't hurt anymore at all now, in fact his touch felt really good. He saw her blush and instead of getting off her, smiled and leaned in to whisper in her ear, "We'd hate to damage those lips," then brushed his own lips against the edge of her ear and slid off her. Killa was now bright red with embarrassment.  
  
Slam. Slam. Slam. Two kept underestimating just how fast Kiko could move, and as a result kept barreling into walls, the mat, and once, almost took out most of the class. He couldn't get to Kiko, and Kiko wasn't strong enough to take him out so they were basically chasing each other around the mat. Kiko wasn't helping by grinning at the guy every time he missed her. He was obviously getting ticked off, which Killa knew was part of Kiko's plan. As soon as he got mad enough to get sloppy, Kiko'd nail him with a hit to the throat or some other area that would disable him, but not require much strength.  
  
Killa looked over at One and caught him watching her. He smirked at her and she smirked right back. "I'll get you next time my pretty, you and you're little dog too. Ahhahaha!" she thought, then realized her chances of ever beating him were pretty damn slim. She wondered what it would be like to fight both of them. When Kiko and her fought as a team, they were simply deadly, maybe she could talk them into fighting her and her friend as a pair. Killa knew she had a powerful hit, and Kiko was faster than anybody she'd ever seen except her grandfather. That guy could move; she couldn't imagine what he was like when he was young. The mat must've smoked.  
  
She kept thinking about One's lips against her ear, and what he said. Probably he was teasing her. "Killa, he's too old for you," she told herself; but up close, out of that weird uniform, he didn't look so old. "Maybe 26, 27, not THAT much older than 21, I guess," she thought, then "He's probably gay or has a girlfriend. And since when do you have time?"  
  
If that guy actually managed to hit Kiko, she'd be in trouble. She looked like she was getting tired, but that could be a trick. A lot of Kiko's fighting style was mental: intimidation, apparent weakness or some other illusion. Two was tough, but he didn't seem to have much emotional control, which was unusual since he clearly had received extensive martial arts training. Who would continue to train someone so apparently lacking in self- control? The guy looked like he was going to explode, and he was punching with way more force than you would use in a practice bout. Killa looked over her shoulder to see if Kiko's grandfather or uncle were watching this little display of temper, and when she didn't see them, got worried for her friend.  
  
Right then, Kiko struck at Two's throat. It hit, made him blink for a second, then he knocked her arm away hard enough it smacked. Kiko cried out in pain and tried to step off the mat, but Two caught her, spun her back into the center of the sparring area, and then attacked again.  
  
"What the f?" Killa shouted. "Let her off the mat! Can't you see she's hurt?" Killa looked at One to see of he was going to stop his brother, but he shrugged his shoulders and stepped away from the mat as if to say "take your best shot." Where were Kiko's grandfather and uncle? She saw them standing at the front of the dojo watching impassively. What was this? Right as Killa was about to step onto the mat, Kiko spun and kicked Two in the side of the head. A loud crack echoed through the dojo as Two's head snapped over to the side. She followed it up with a kick to his right knee and down he went. Kiko quickly ran off the mat and over to Killa. Her arm looked, Jesus, it looked broken.  
  
Two jumped to his feet and walked over to them. Killa grabbed a bo staff off the rack and stood in front of her friend. This guy scared the shit out of her.  
  
"Back off." Killa snarled.  
  
"Let us see her arm." Two said politely. Blood was trickling down his neck from where Kiko had hit him. He looked worse off than her.  
  
"Don't you know when someone steps off the mat, or TRIES to step off the mat it means they want to stop? What are you, an idiot?" Killa snapped.  
  
Two gritted his teeth, then replied "We were instructed to push her. She is not seriously injured and now she knows she can hit much harder than she thought. She will be a better fighter for this. That is your goal, isn't it? Or is this a substitute for aerobics for you two?"  
  
Killa lowered the bo staff, then replaced it on the rack. Two walked over to Kiko and held out his hands. She let him take her arm, grimaced as he felt along the forearm to see of it was broken.  
  
"It is merely bruised. It will be a painful reminder to not underestimate your opponent's ability to see through your trickery. We feigned our anger and anticipated the strike to the throat. This is an old trick. We will teach you some new ones." He paused and smirked at her "We did not anticipate the next two hits. Good job."  
  
Killa felt most of her anger fade away when she saw how pleased Kiko was with her hits and Two's compliment. Their style of teaching was certainly different, but neither of the girls had learned this much in a single class in a while, and this was just sparring.  
  
"As for you" Two looked at her, "you may help us with our wounds since you seem to need to help someone." He touched the blood on his neck and smiled a half-smile that still looked remarkable close to a smirk. "We are in far worse shape that your friend." There was a cut and a knot on his head where Kiko kicked him; it looked pretty painful 


	6. First kiss

"The bathroom's over here, we have a few medical supplies in there." Killa paused, then continued "You don't feel dizzy do you? That knot looks like it's getting bigger. She wouldn't have hit you so hard if you hadn't scared her."  
  
"That was the point," Two said, sounding amused. He sat down on the toilet as Killa pulled out the first aid kit.  
  
"Give me your jacket; it's going to get blood all over it." Killa said.  
  
"It already has blood on it." He took the jacket off and handed it to her. Killa set it aside on the sink.  
  
"Not that much. I'm going to have pour water on your head to get the blood out of your hair, I can't get it out of your dreads any other way. I need to have a look at that cut."  
  
First she took a washcloth and gently wiped away the blood that was on his neck and shoulder. He was beautiful, not a scar, blemish, nothing marred his sleek skin. Killa stifled an impulse to run her hands over his neck and shoulder. He smelled good too, like his brother's jacket. Weird that they had the same scent. She reached over him to the shower stall, grabbed a towel and handed it to him. He looked like he was stifling a grin, like this was funny for some reason.  
  
"Turn your head to the side, Two, and hold up that towel." She moved the dreads that weren't bloody to the other side of his neck. Soft, not wiry at all. Everything about this guy was a mystery. Now for the water. Killa poured a bit of water, used a piece of clean gauze to blot some of the blood out of his hair, and then repeated the process until his hair was clean. Whoa, Kiko'd kicked him hard enough the skin looked like it had torn from the force of the blow; it must have been the angle of the kick. It wasn't a big cut, maybe an inch, and it wasn't deep-scalp cuts just bleed like hell. He'd be fine, but she bet he had one hell of a headache.  
  
"You're not dizzy at all? Right? Not tired or sleepy?"  
  
"No, we do not have a concussion," Two said with a smile in his voice. Why was he so amused by this process? Did he like getting hit in the head? She reached for the alcohol and a styptic pencil.  
  
"This will hurt like hell, but it'll stop the bleeding." She blotted the alcohol on, followed up with the pencil-- he didn't flinch at all. Guy must be tough as hell, or good at faking it.  
  
"Let's have a look at that knee."  
  
"The knee is fine. You just want to look at our leg."  
  
"Shut it, or I'll have you take those pant's off too."  
  
He stood up and reached for the drawstring "You want them off?" Killa smiled and arched an eyebrow at him, daring him to do it. He undid the tie, paused and prepared to pull them down.  
  
Two looked at Killa and thought to One "Should I?"  
  
One thought back "Intimidate her. Shut the door and lean over her. See what she does."  
  
Two shut the bathroom door and backed Killa against the wall as his pants inched down until only his hips held them up. He leaned forward into her space and asked her again "Do you want them off?" Killa gazed up at him, grinned incredulously, then said "You are hitting on me in the bathroom? In the dojo? This is a joke, right? I was just joking about the pants. If you don't want me to look at your knee, it's your knee, I need to get out of the bathroom and back to class."  
  
Two thought to One "What do we say?" He felt puzzled at Killa's response; it was very different from the women he met at the Merovingian's restaurant. The Merovingian often took women into the bathroom for sex, Two didn't prefer that particular location as a meeting place, but it wasn't an unusual location as far as he knew. Plus, she had initiated the encounter.  
  
"Don't say anything. Move closer. See what she does," this last was said in a suspiciously flat tone. One loved to play jokes on anyone, including his brother. Two decided to do what he would do if Killa were any other woman; any other women he met at Club Hel or one of the Merovingian's other clubs to be specific.  
  
Two moved closer to Killa, who looked a bit freaked and was now scrunched up into the corner between the wall and the sink, half her ass on the counter as she tried to get away from Two. She opened her mouth to say something and Two closed the gap between them, slid his hand around her neck and kissed her. He meant for it to be gentle, but then she stomped his foot. He pinned her against the wall completely and deepened the kiss, held her hands over her head with one hand and held her neck with the other, pressed her legs down with his knees. She stopped struggling, but didn't respond the way women usually did to him, eager and excited. She just stood there and then Two felt tears on his cheeks. This was not the way it was supposed to go, what happened?  
  
He leaned back a few inches and she dropped her head down until her forehead brushed against his lips; then her body started shaking. He leaned back further, expecting her to kick him, push him, slap him; but she slid to the floor, wrapped her arms around her legs, turned her head to rest it on her knees, and started quietly crying.  
  
"Great advice One. What do we do now?" One didn't think anything back; through the connection Two felt One's regret. "We didn't mean to hurt her; we don't know." Two knelt down and said "Killa?" softly. She shook her head and continued to refuse to look at him.  
  
Two touched her shoulder and felt her stiffen, dropped his hand. "We are sorry. We, the women we have met enjoy," Two didn't finish the sentence, remembering the scared looks on some of their faces in the morning. No, they orgasmed repeatedly, they became eager after a pretense of reluctance; he felt repeatedly their pleasure, regardless of their morning regrets. No, this was different; Killa had not enjoyed it at all, it wasn't a pretense with her, she'd meant it.  
  
"Killa, we truly didn't mean to hurt you. We like you very much." Two felt surprised to realize he meant it; he did care about this female somewhat. He also felt One's growing concern that Killa would not stop crying. They'd ruined another chance at a friend. And this one had seemed to be going so well.  
  
"We've hurt her, how do we repair it? She doesn't look hurt." One thought.  
  
Killa's crying slowed. She turned her head to look at Two and he cringed inside when he saw her expression. He knew that emotion; that was hate. Then she turned her head away from him again.  
  
"Get out." Killa's tone was flat.  
  
"We thought you would enjoy," Two began.  
  
"Just get out. I don't want to look at you. Shut the door."  
  
Two stood, opened the door and walked to the where his brother was waiting. During the time in the bathroom, the class had finished sparring. The Twins walked quickly toward the door, planning on making a discreet getaway. Kadoya stopped them as they reached his office.  
  
"So, you enjoyed the class?" Kadoya smiled at the Twins.  
  
"How can he act human so easily? How does he, Killa is his friend, she gives him respect, affection; how does he do it?" One thought to Two, frustration evident in the tone of his mind. It annoyed him that another program could do such a simple task when they could not, especially such an insignifigant program.  
  
"No wonder the Merovingian uses the cake," Two back thought grimly, then immediately felt some slight guilt as he pictured giving Killa the cake. One even turned to look at him reproachfully. Two shuffled his feet and grimaced. They never resorted to such methods, preferring a good challenge.

Killa heard the door shut and got up off the floor. She was absolutely furious with Two, so furious that when she couldn't get away from him, she'd cried tears of frustration. She was still shaking with frustration and anger. What an ass! He reminded her of Kolby, how the last few months they'd been together he started pinning her down, first at the dojo, then during sex, then, seemingly, whenever and wherever he felt like it, really rubbing her nose in the fact that somehow he'd become twice as strong, twice as fast, and twice the asshole.  
  
She'd done the only thing that used to get Kolby to let her go, give up. She hated that feeling, and then she had started to cry, which made it even worse. She hated crying. Killa glanced in the mirror, she looked like hell, her eyes puffy and red, her lips bruised and swollen. There was a red hand shaped mark on her right forearm as well, that was going to bruise too. Great. What a bastard. Plus she was beginning to feel sore from the sparring with One.  
  
"You don't have time for this crap. Two more finals. Focus. Deal with this later, " she told her image in the mirror, then splashed water on her face and dried it on the clean edge of the towel. What a day, she felt exhausted, and there was still her Biochem final. What time was it? Crap, 2:00 PM, she had to be there by 2:45PM to check in for the 3PM final. She'd meant to leave early, then got sidetracked by that, ok, just find a solution.  
  
Killa burst out of the bathroom and ran to the showers. Everyone else was gone, including Kiko who had a final as well. She needed a ride to get there on time, well Kadoya would help her, she knew that, she'd ask him if all else failed. She quickly showered, changed, grabbed her backpack, and ran to the office. Kiko's uncle was gone too, that left Kadoya as her only hope of getting there on time, and she'd need every precious minute for Biochem; she'd heard from everyone who took the course last year that it would be the worst of her finals.  
  
"Kadoya! Sensei!" Killa stuck her head in the door, ugh, Two was in there. He and One turned to look at her, they were back in their uniforms; she ignored them and addressed Kadoya.  
  
"Sensei, are you terribly busy? I, I'll talk to you about it later, I'm going to be late for my final, can you give me a ride to campus? Please? I will come back later and help you with paperwork." Killa then looked at the schedule behind him; he was supposed to teach the class that was now warming up.  
  
"I cannot. There is no one else to teach the class."  
  
"We'll take you." One offered. Killa stared at him, then glanced at Two, her desire to be there on time warring with her dislike of Two. If she took the ride, she be there early, if she took the subway, then the campus bus, she'd be nearly 30 minutes late, maybe more.  
  
Kadoya noted the look she gave Two and said, "Two, I would like you to stay and help me with this next class. They are beginners; I wish to see how you will interact with them." Two nodded and turned away from Killa.  
  
"I'd love a ride. Thanks One." Killa smiled at him. One walked over, picked up her backpack and led her out to the new Escalade. He opened the door for her, shut it, then placed her things in the backseat. The inside of the car smelled like new leather, there was also a faint hint of the twins' scent, and a faint hint of gunpowder, oddly enough. Killa reached around into the back and retrieved her notes from her backpack as One got into the SUV. His shoulder brushed up against her as she was digging for her notes, then he leaned forward, started the engine and turned the AC on.  
  
"You saved my life One. I can't be late for this final. I owe you big time." One nodded, didn't say anything at first, then took off his sunglasses and said, "We are sorry."  
  
"Sorry for what?" Killa asked.  
  
"Sorry for what happened in the bathroom." One's voice was almost a whisper; his body language radiating discomfort and something Killa thought might be embarrassment, but wasn't sure. Two must have told him what happened, the jerk. But why did One feel so bad? He wasn't responsible for his brother's actions. She noticed he was looking at where she was absent- mindedly rubbing her forearm, then saw him wince at the hand-sized developing bruise.  
  
"Let me see your arm," he said as he held out his hands to her. Killa scooted a little closer and handed him her arm; he then circled the darkening bruise with both of his hands-- it felt warm, a little tingly. When he finished, the bruise was gone.  
  
"How did you do that?" Killa asked, touching the place where the mark had been.  
  
"Where else does it hurt?" he asked softly, then noticed her bruised lips and a mark on her neck. "Come here." One had learned from Two's mistakes and waited to let her decide what to do, he just wanted to fix the problem so she wouldn't hurt. Maybe if she didn't hurt she wouldn't be quite as angry with Two anymore.  
  
Killa assessed One for a moment, then moved closer to him. This was more than a little weird, but she liked One and had seen Kadoya do healing before too, just never anything so quick. Wait, once at a competition she had been sure she broke her arm, then Kadoya had applied some sort of cream to it and the pain immediately went away. Maybe it was a martial arts thing, she'd have to ask Kadoya.  
  
While Killa considered, One watched the emotions play across her face, first suspicion, then reflection, then a decision to accept him. Good. He noticed many small disruptions in her code, the worst in her back, neck and lips. When he began to reach for her, he noticed that she withdrew a tiny bit, so he waited and let her close the rest of the distance herself until they were almost touching. First he ran his forefinger over her lips, then the palm of his hand over the sensitive skin of her neck; she shivered slightly and angled her neck so he could reach the spot where she hurt. Responsive wasn't she? He began to imagine her reaction to his lips on her neck, his tongue tracing the muscles just under her skin, his lips lightly brushing the edge of her ear, nibbling along her collarbone; he could enjoy her, yes he could; but not today. He slid both hands over her shoulders and leaned a little closer to reach her back; she smelled like vanilla soap. He remembered what she tasted like from Two: vanilla and salt--salt from the workout, a better flavor than makeup residue any day. So close, she leaned her head against his chest as he healed the bruising and muscle soreness in her back. There. She should feel much better now, maybe she wouldn't be so angry with them.  
  
"Feel better?"  
  
"Yes, lots, thanks." She slid back to her side of the SUV, glanced at the clock and said, "Whoa, I really have to get to my final. We only have 20 minutes to get there."  
  
One smirked "We recommend you put on your seatbelt; we're taking the highway. We'll have you there in five."  
  
One pulled out into traffic and gunned the engine, started weaving in and out of traffic, squealed around two corners and pulled on to the freeway. He glanced over at Killa, and then raised his eyebrows when he saw she wasn't even paying attention; she was completely focused on her notes. Well. He accelerated until the Escalade was up to 130 MPH (it had been reprogrammed to exceed manufacturer specs), continued weaving through traffic; there wasn't much at this time of day anyway. Killa glanced up, then over at the speedometer, then grinned.  
  
"This thing really goes. I didn't know SUVs could go that fast, or that they were that maneuverable. Nice." Then she went right back to studying like it was no big deal. One watched her out of the corner of his eye, but she wasn't faking, she really wasn't bothered by the speed, at all. That was different. She looked up again, said "Ok, you're going to want to take exit 309, then turn right onto Campus Drive. Drop me off in front of the library, that's about as close as you can get-you know where that is?" She folded her notes, unclicked her seatbelt, reached around and stashed them back in her backpack.  
  
"Yes, of course, now please put your seatbelt back on." One reminded her incredulously.  
  
"Oh, yeah, ok." Was that a smirk on HER face? Was she teasing HIM? No, it must be his imagination. He exited without slowing down, made the turn, barely, between two cars who honked at him and when he felt her side of the SUV lift off the ground he glanced over at her--she was grinning, like this was a fun park ride! He squealed to a stop in front of the library, scattering pedestrians and leaving a ten-foot streak of burnt rubber down the middle of the road and she started laughing!  
  
"Sweet! If I win the lottery I'm going to hire YOU to drive me around. You can drive! Nice job with the pedestrians too. Scatter, don't splatter! Hehe!" She grabbed her backpack, smiled at him, blew him a kiss, hopped out of the car and ran into campus. One looked in the rearview mirror, saw the lights of a police car approaching and took off back to the dojo. 


	7. Betty's good advice

Two waited for Kadoya to tell him what was expected of him. Even knowing this was just a ploy to get him out of the way so Killa could get her ride; he had gone along with it for some reason. His mouth twisted into a smirk, he was surprised the old program was willing to let him loose among a bunch of humans, some of them children, especially since Killa had hinted at something unpleasant occurring between them.  
  
One did all the talking before he left, agreed that they would teach, stated that they "enjoyed" the class, and listed the various techniques they could teach the humans. Two had felt One's genuine excitement through their connection; he really did like this place, and actually anticipated they would be accepted here since Kadoya was a program as well. Sometimes One's curiosity interfered with his common sense; did he really think they would be welcome here when Kadoya learned how Two had conducted himself with Killa? Unlikely.  
  
And that girl, first flirting with him, then rejecting him, then crying-the Merovingian was right, it was a game, all a game, and she was just another player in the game, that's all. So why did he feel guilty?  
  
"So, you have offended her." Kadoya finally broke the silence. Two gazed at him without expression, refused to answer. Kadoya returned the gaze placidly, then said, "She appeared unharmed, apparently this is not a mission for the Merovingian?"  
  
"No." Two stated flatly.  
  
"She brings you here then?"  
  
"No. We are curious about you." Two watched Kadoya from behind his sunglasses. The program nodded, said nothing, seemed to be waiting for more explanation. Two gritted his teeth and said, "We have never met a program who chose to reproduce with a human; we have heard of such aberrations, but never met with one." That was somewhat a lie. He knew of others, but none of them were aware he knew about their activities. He had One were skilled at aquiring information, much of which they kept to themselves.  
  
Kadoya stated flatly, "You work for one. The Matrix is full of the Merovingian's children, those that he hasn't managed to have eliminated."  
  
Two considered, yes, a few of the human-program hybrid targets they had terminated bore a resemblance to the Merovingian. Most of the human dirty work went to the Vampires, the twins primarily took care of the Merovingian's personal safety, but occasionally they were sent out, especially if the target was particularly important, or had managed to evade the vampires. Two had wondered what the last target had done to offend, he was just a mousy little man who'd done nothing of note, hacked into nothing, didn't even know who the Merovingian was, he just knew he was being hunted by monsters for some reason. Now Two knew the man's offense, he'd been born. Two felt disgust at the Merovingian's lack of discretion, it was easy enough to modify your code to prevent pregnancy.  
  
"I would be, hmm, less than happy if something were to happen to Killa."  
  
Was the fool threatening him, Two wondered? His lips pulled back into a sneer, "She is not a target."  
  
"Good. And as for you?"  
  
"We do not intend to harm her." Two inadvertently emphasized the word "intend."  
  
"But you think you already have? How so? And you seem to regret it." Kadoya's perception was unnerving; Two wondered how long the program had been exiled, what his purpose had been before exile. Just how powerful was he?  
  
"We indicated our interest, she rejected it, we misinterpreted the data." Two paused. "She cried."  
  
"Ah." Kadoya waited.  
  
"We did not mean to make her cry." Why was he justifying himself?  
  
Kadoya looked at him appraisingly, then said, "You and your "brother" are one being, correct?"  
  
"Yes, mostly." And your point? This program was beginning to irritate him.  
  
"Hmm, she will see you both here. You will have an opportunity to interact more." Kadoya paused, looked mischievous, then continued, "You should spar with her tomorrow, if she'll let you." Two said nothing, stood there with his arms across his chest looking bored. "Change your clothes and join the class when you are ready."  
  
Two headed for the locker room as One entered the dojo. When he heard Kadoya pointing them out as his new teachers, Two turned, smirked at the students and had the pleasure of seeing most of them cringe, then waited for his brother to catch up. They reviewed each others experiences and Two felt worse. Why was his brother doing so much better? They were the same; he should be doing as well. One reminded him that they had not interacted with the female in the same situations and that he had had an opportunity to learn from Two's experience before he attempted his own. Two felt a little better.  
  
After changing they sauntered out and assessed the class. Kadoya had the class doing exercises obviously designed to enhance coordination and flexibility-good luck! Some of the children showed slight potential, but how were they supposed to spar with children? That was how they learned, so that was the only way they knew to teach. What did Kadoya expect them to do? A little red-headed girl wandered up to them, crossed her arms across her chest and stared up at them. Two bent over until he was within inches of her face and grinned his best terrifying smile, the one that showed all his teeth. The little girl didn't even blink; she smiled back and touched his hair.  
  
"Your hair is pretty. My grandmother has hair like that. What's your name?"  
  
"Two." He bit out shortly.  
  
"I'm Esme. Kneel down and let me see your hair, ok? It's neat."  
  
"No." Two stood back up and crossed his arms over his chest.  
  
"You know, you shouldn't be so grumpy. No one'll like you." The little girl turned around and ran back to the rest of the class.  
  
"That's not bad advice." One said, amused, then dropped it when he saw his brother's face.  
  
Either because of Two's mood, or some other reason, Kadoya had them watch the class only. After the class they settled on a schedule for the Twins- they would teach two advanced classes a day in exchange for free rent and utilities, and could also join Kadoya's family for the evening meal if they so chose. One did all the talking, Two just sat and looked bored with the process. "As if we would want to eat with humans," he thought.  
  
After they finished at the dojo, they returned to the chateau to unload the laundry from the truck. Cain and Abel leaned against the wall watching them work, laughing and snickering to each other. Two had had all he could take today; he stomped toward the werewolves and pulled his switchblade out. They slipped inside the elevator and made their escape, but they quit laughing.  
  
After One and Two finished the laundry, they went upstairs and relaxed, or, rather, One relaxed and Two tried to relax. Two knew that Killa was no longer physically damaged, but he didn't think that had been the problem in the first place; although when he saw the developing bruises One had healed, especially the big one on her forearm, he realized he'd been rougher than he thought. He felt a little bad about that, but mostly he thought she had overreacted. He kept mulling it over in his mind until he finally decided to put it aside and rest for a bit.  
  
Right as he was finally feeling peaceful, One leaned over and said "Pancakes?" Two sighed and got up; maybe it would help to talk to Betty anyway, perhaps she could give him some insight into Killa's reaction. His brother hadn't gloated about his luck with Killa so far, but Two knew it was coming-One loved to outdo his brother, as did Two. Part of the reason they were so good at everything they did was because they were constantly competing with each other. Yet they had the exact same abilities, so it was pretty much impossible for one or the other to really be better, but sometimes one was luckier than the other. Luck or not, the winner always rubbed it in. Two did not want to be the loser in this game. He'd get Betty to help.  
  
The twins arrived at The IHOP and ordered. After they got their food, they told Betty about what happened at the dojo, their new job, apartment, the sparring, and then, finally, the bathroom incident. Betty's face grew increasingly tight the longer Two talked; which made Two feel surprisingly nervous about her reaction.  
  
"You know, that's really white trash Two, kissing in the bathroom." Betty said with disgust evident in both her voice and her face. "Never mind the fact that you acted like you were going to rape her; bathroom sex? C'mon. The bathroom is not a place for sex unless you are drunk, horny, and will never see each other again." Betty glared at Two who looked horrified. The Merovingian did it all the time, but when Two thought about the real purpose for bathrooms, he could see exactly what Betty meant. Those two functions really shouldn't be combined.  
  
Two didn't say anything so Betty continued, "Plus, it's just plain tacky. You don't seem like a tacky boy? Why did you do this thing? Huh?"  
  
Two looked down at the table and started tracing the scratches in the table top with his finger. "We were not trying to rape her. We thought she would like it."  
  
"Like what? Like being kissed? Sure, from what you said I bet she would have; if you'd asked her out on a date, waited until you got to know her a bit, paid attention to what she wanted. Sure, she was flirting with you; you're a nice looking man. But did she want to be flattened against the wall and scared? No. You don't understand what it is like to be made to feel smaller and weaker, I bet you've never felt that in your life." Betty looked at them and shook her head. Two didn't say anything, he just kept tracing the scratches in the table. One wouldn't meet her eyes either. Betty sighed and said "I've got to work on my sidework; I can take a break in thirty minutes and talk more then."  
  
Two had thought about Killa all day off and on. Often with anger mixed with desire, occasionally with guilt, never with understanding; but now he thought about how little she had felt next to him, how he'd been able to pin her so easily. Normally he would have gloated over his strength, now it just made him feel sick. He knew exactly how she felt; he'd felt it when he was made obsolete and nearly deleted. The Source made him feel tiny, powerless when he thought about it, which was as little as possible. Was that how he had made Killa feel? He ran through the incident in his mind, first the tears, then how she had quit trying to escape, then the look of hate-he understood: he had forced her to feel helpless, not as a game, but in reality, like he felt with the Source, she must think of him like the Source. His stomach knotted up-why didn't he think of that? No wonder she hated him, he would have hated him. Why didn't he think about that before? How could he have thought she would like that?  
  
One was communing with Two's mind while this thought process was happening, both were examining and weighing the incident against the new data from Betty. One regretted his advice to Two; he'd only intended to get his brother in trouble with Killa, make her mad at him, watch her slap his face and then pick on his brother about how much better he was doing with her than Two.  
  
Now, when he reviewed Two's memories, he saw her cringe slightly when Two stepped closer to her. When he'd suggested Two intimidate her, he just thought, thought it would be like it was on the mat where Killa had held her own, had fought back when he attacked her. He thought she would attack Two, that it would be funny to watch Two try to deal with an angry Killa in a small bathroom. Now that he comprehended how she must have really felt, plus he felt Two's unhappiness, he wished he hadn't given deliberately bad advice to his brother.  
  
By the time Betty returned, both were hanging their heads and pushing their mostly untouched food around on their plates. That more than anything convinced Betty they must truly feel regret-they loved to eat, ate like 400lb construction workers; although they never gained any weight. Must be part of their alien metabolism. She had serious doubts about her ability to help them with their human problems, but she was going to try. In some ways they reminded her of her own sons when they were adolescents, well, even when they were in their twenties they had women trouble. Her sons would call and ask her about some fool thing they'd done to their girlfriends and then she'd have to explain why it was bad idea to ever tell a woman that, no matter if she did ask. Both of her sons were dead now, thanks to the military, and she found that she actually enjoyed helping the twins-it was a little like having her sons back.  
  
"So, do you have anything to say for yourself Two?" Betty eyed Two who looked so miserable she felt a little sorry for him.  
  
One answered for them both "We made her feel helpless and small. She hates us now."  
  
"She doesn't hate both of you, just Two. Why do you always refer to yourself as if you were one person? You can't both date her anyway, maybe Two should find another girl."  
  
One looked at two, thought "Do we tell her?"  
  
"Sure," Two thought back, "she thinks we are aliens. Just explain it like that."  
  
"We are one person that has two forms, that is the easiest way to explain it, but not the most accurate. There are some differences, but they are minor. On our planet, the males are dual because the females require a greater degree of, ah, attention to conceive."  
  
"So the women on your planet are horny all the time?" Betty asked, grinning from ear to ear.  
  
"They are appreciative of male attention, yes."  
  
"So this means that you are a umm, team in the bedroom?" Still grinning.  
  
"No, not always. Often we take women separately, occasionally we take one together if we both find her appealing and she is willing."  
  
One paused, and Two added, "Earth females enjoy this very much."  
  
"I bet they do." Betty quipped, then asked more thoughtfully, "Umm, but how does this work out in a relationship? It's not exactly the norm on this planet. Doesn't that cause problems?"  
  
"We've never been in a relationship."  
  
"Never?"  
  
"No, never."  
  
Betty felt sorry for them, they had missed out on one of the best things about being human. Maybe they didn't want a relationship though?  
  
"Do you want a relationship? Is this something you even want?"  
  
One and Two seemed to confer for a minute, "We aren't sure, we wanted to try to see if we could make human friends." Two paused for a second, "We did it more as a challenge, to see if we could fool humans. Sometimes we become very bored."  
  
"Life is boring without other people to care about. Every day is more of the same. I feel sorry for you guys; no friends, no lover, stuck on this planet far from home." Betty's voice was tinged with pity.  
  
"We have had plenty of lovers." One stated dryly.  
  
"Not that understood you or that you could trust though, right?"  
  
"No, not that." One agreed.  
  
"Then you haven't had lovers, you've had sex partners. It's not the same thing, sweetie." Betty paused, then asked "What do you want with this girl, Killa?"  
  
"We want her to be our friend," both answered at the same time.  
  
"But you desire her too, right?"  
  
"Yes, but she does not desire Two. We do not know if she desires One, but we think she does." Both answered at the same time again.  
  
Betty shook her head, they creeped her out a little, "Just because she's mad at you Two doesn't mean she isn't attracted to you. I think your biggest obstacle is going to be getting her to accept you both as a single entity." Betty paused, "I don't think I can help you with that."  
  
They looked at her, said nothing.  
  
"Ok, well, here's my advice. If you want a woman to accept something that she might not like, you'd better be damn good in every other way. Treat her like a lady. Consider her feelings and needs before your own." Betty looked at the clock, her break was over. "I'm off for two days, I'll bring you a list of books to read on relationships when I come back."  
  
Betty stood up, then looked hard at Two, "As for you, you behave yourself. Don't hurt her. Don't force her to do anything she says she doesn't want, even if you think she does. Don't lose your temper, for chrissake. Be nice to her NO MATTER WHAT. Treat her like a lady. Do I make myself clear?"  
  
Two just nodded his head looking slightly cowed.  
  
"See you in two days boys, good luck, you'll need it." 


	8. Randall, and a bit of the past

Killa was exhausted after her final, so she went home, threw herself on her bed and immediately fell asleep. When she woke up, it was already dark outside. Rolling over, she checked out the time-11 PM already? She was supposed to go the Library and meet her study group at midnight; tomorrow's exam was at 8AM so they'd pull an allnighter at the Library and then walk over to the exam together. Man, she wouldn't be worth crap tomorrow at practice, oh well, Kadoya would have to deal with it. Killa lay on her bed and thought about Two for a few minutes.  
  
Part of what scared her about the kiss was her own initial reaction to it- she'd enjoyed the way it felt for a split-second, then she'd gotten mad that he would act that way at the dojo. And after she stomped his foot to get him to quit, he wouldn't, in fact he got worse. He did quit when she started crying, which was better than Kolby, and he had seemed genuinely sorry and bewildered. She thought about what he said after he let her go, his tone of voice; it was all very confusing. How could he not know that she wanted him to let her go? Didn't he know that no means no?  
  
She was still attracted to him, which disgusted her that she would feel that towards someone who was obviously a royal jerk. Plus, she was attracted to his brother equally, which was weird, although he didn't seem to be as attracted to her. That would be her luck; the jerk brother would like her, while the nice one would want to be friends. "I'll just avoid Two as much as possible." She said to herself, then immediately realized that would be difficult now that they were both going to be her teacher. And she still needed to talk to Kadoya about what happened, she dreaded that, but knew that Kadoya needed to know. What if the guy tried that on another student and they filed sexual harassment charges? Kadoya could get in a lot of trouble, maybe lose his business. Great. She'd deal with it tomorrow.  
  
Grabbing her robe, she headed down to the bathroom. After a long hot shower, she dressed and headed downstairs to get something to eat. "Hey, Killa, that guy Randall, called for you. He has a job for you. He said to call him back, no matter how late, " her roommate Cal called out as she rounded the stairs. "Ok, Cal, thanks."  
  
Randall was a friend of hers from high school. He'd always been in trouble, and was, from what she could tell, still in trouble, just had gotten a lot better at not getting caught. They became friends when she took advanced art and accidentally found out he couldn't read. He was an amazing artist, but he couldn't follow written directions at all, so the teacher, Mrs. Lipscombe, a real witch, was always ragging on him.  
  
At first Killa thought he didn't follow directions just to piss Lips off, but after a while she figured out he couldn't-- he didn't know what they meant. So she started teaching him herself after school; it's not like anyone else was going to do it, and she kind of liked him even if she didn't agree with what he said a lot of the time. Randall believed in survival of the fittest-kill or be killed, Social Darwinism crap, although he wouldn't call it that, he'd just say "Better them than me, the strong survive."  
  
At first he only went along with it to try to get in her pants, he thought she must have a thing for him, a lot of girls did-the whole bad boy act. But after a couple of weeks he realized she was serious. And she realized that he really did want to learn, he'd just missed out on a lot of school. He was enrolled in school for the first time when he was nine; his mom finally died from a drug overdose, and his existence was discovered. Before that, Randall just stayed inside the house. Nobody even knew that a kid lived there, because Randall's mother wouldn't let him go outside.  
  
He was pretty messed up, and things hadn't gotten a whole lot better when he'd become a ward of the state. He told her his story in bits and pieces, along with threats that he'd "Fing kill her if she ever told anyone about this." Killa never repeated anything he'd told her, she was great at keeping secrets because she was curious about people. People told Killa amazing things all the time, she just seemed trustworthy and, maybe more important, interested.  
  
At first he wanted to pay her for tutoring him. Killa looked at him like he was crazy, "You're my friend Randall, you know, 'friends,' the people you do stuff for because you like them, not because you want something back?" He didn't believe her; kept expecting her to freak out, cheat him, run off, use him, something. "I like tutoring you Randall, I don't know, it's fun, ok? Maybe I want to be a teacher. Leave it alone, ok?" So for the last three years of high school she tutored him three times a week after school for an hour or so. None of her other friends, except Toby who kept his mouth shut, even knew she did it, they both kept it quiet; Randall because it wouldn't be "cool" to be around her, and sure not cool to be being tutored by the resident brainiac, Killa because she figured he wanted her to. She felt so proud when he graduated, almost like a big sister, except he was older than her by three years.  
  
All through high school it was their secret friendship where they could both be themselves. Killa could talk to Randall about anything; any way she wanted--she didn't feel like she had to be nice all the time. Randall could talk to her about how he felt without fear of her making fun of him. He'd helped her change, become more confident, cooler, tougher, better able to take care of herself. He nicknamed her "Killer" when they first became friends partly because of her name and partly as a joke because "she was the biggest Fing goody two shoes he'd ever met." If she hadn't been friends with Randall, she might have gone along with Kolby, let him treat her bad.  
  
Randall, the first time he saw the bruises from when Kolby had "sparred" with her-more like taken the opportunity to beat the crap out of her, didn't do what Toby'd done, holler about how he was going to kill Kolby, Randall gave her a long look and said "You can do better than that, Killer. Put him in check or cut him loose. He's YOUR bitch-don't let him forget it." She'd laughed and appreciated that he trusted her to deal with her own problems. She found out later though that Randall planned to kill Kolby, really kill him, if she hadn't managed to deal with him herself. That had scared her a little bit.  
  
When he was in town, they hung out together a fair bit, Randall always came up with cool stuff to do. Him, Toby and her were hell on wheels when they all got together. Randall still kept in touch by email when he was out of town; every few months there would be a message from him. And, occasionally, he had a job for her; he knew she needed the money for college. Most of what he did was illegal and Killa didn't want to know the particulars, but sometimes he had work that was well-paid and perfectly legal, document courier work mostly. She figured this was why he was calling her; she hoped it wasn't about Andy again.  
  
A few weeks ago she'd won a bike in a street race. Killa had mostly quit racing because she was too busy with school. This year she hadn't raced at all, until this last one. The prize was too good to pass up, and the guy who'd challenged her, Andy, couldn't ride anyway, he just had a lot of money. Plus, it was sort of a grudge match. She knew him from high school as well, he was a prick who'd made fun of her constantly, her old clothes, her good grades, everything.  
  
Then Randall taught her to ride a bike, and they'd both been amazed at how quickly she got good, really good. Randall "borrowed" her first racing bike from a "friend" and told her she better not lose. She didn't, she won a sweet little Kawasaki and was hooked. Randall gave her a cut of the money he'd won by betting on her and put her in touch with a good mechanic. The mechanic modified the Kawasaki and made it even faster. Street racing had paid for the all the college and living expenses that her scholarships didn't cover; her parents didn't have enough money to help her, but made too much for government grants.  
  
At first, it bothered her to take the other rider's bike when they lost, but, as Randall pointed out and as she came to find out later when she lost some races herself, the other guy would take her bike and not even blink. She won much more than she lost, so it was a good deal for her, and she loved it, loved the speed, and loved the competition.  
  
The first time she raced Andy, the guy who'd tormented her regularly in school, she defeated him brutally-the guy was afraid to take corners fast, and didn't have a good feel for his bike. After the race, he tried to keep his bike; first he gave her a lame story about how he couldn't afford another one, then, when that didn't work, asked "What are you going to do about it, girly?" She punched him out, Randall taught her how to do that too, a quick hard hit to the nose usually took out most people, especially if you followed it up by one to the jaw.  
  
She was surprised when he went down, then worried until she saw him trying to get back up. Of course everyone laughed at him and she felt terrible, she'd just lost her temper with him. Someone helped her wheel the bike over to Randall's truck and told her to leave before Andy's friends showed up. Randall laughed, rubbed her head and told her she was a badass. She didn't feel like a badass, she felt plain bad for hurting and humiliating Andy even if he was a jackass. She hadn't realized she was that mad at him, but when he called her "girly," it was like she hit him automatically, without any thought for the consequences.  
  
After that, he hated her. He continued picking on her in school, at least when his friends were around, and tried to cause trouble for her as much as possible. Every time they were at the same race, he would challenge her and lose. His bikes got bigger and bigger, faster and faster, but he still lost because he didn't know how to manage fear. Killa rarely felt any, she didn't know why, sometimes it seemed unreal to her, the thought of her getting hurt, like this was a dream and she could snap her fingers and be ok. She'd had a few spills, but every time emerged with nothing but a few scratches and some glorious rainbow colored bruises, it just wasn't a big deal. Whatever the reason, she was fearless and skilled.  
  
He never beat her. The bike she had now came from him, a three-year-old Ninja. It was a sweet bike, but no longer top of the line. It wasn't just that she didn't have time to race this past year, the age of the bike had something to do with it too, as well as the fact that she had already won enough money to barely finish her last year of college. Med school was a snap, she could get money for that; she already had a line on several full scholarships. So, basically, she quit because she didn't want to push her luck, lose her one means of out of town transportation or, worse, end up being caught by the cops. So far she'd been really lucky.  
  
Then Andy emailed her and challenged her to a race. At first she said no way, she knew he'd have a better bike than her. Then she checked around and found out he'd just bought a new Ninja ZX-10R, in black with silver trim, beautiful. Gorgeous bike, super fast, oooh, she wanted it, but knew her bike was no match for it at all, no way. But he emailed back and said she could pick the race location, time, and day. Killa considered it, she knew he hadn't been as good of a rider last year, but he had improved each year, so he was probably better than she remembered. She, on the other hand, hadn't raced at all, so her reflexes were sure to be rusty. Hmm.  
  
She emailed him back that she could meet him a month after school. He said no way, he would be in Europe and then gave a set of dates to choose from, all of them in the month before finals. So that was how this was going to go? He'd make sure she didn't have time to get in any real practicing before the race. All right. So she picked the location she knew he was most terrified of, Oceanside, a curving two-lane road full of switchbacks, prone to rockslides and loose gravel, bounded on one side by sheer rock and the other by a drop to the beach below. Then she picked 2AM as the time, consulted the weather forecast and lunar cycle, and picked the day most likely to rain in the next week with the least amount of moonlight. She thought he'd say no.  
  
He didn't. The day of the race came in a driving rainstorm on a moonless night. Even Killa felt a little scared, the wind was blowing in unpredictable and powerful gusts-it would be easy to get blown off the road. She got there early and ran through the course once, slowly, just to get a feel for it, and had been blown within inches of the edge on the last curve. Adrenalin was still pumping through her body. They met alone, just him and her, also dangerous as hell-no one to call an ambulance, no one to help if things went wrong. She thought he wouldn't show, but he did.  
  
One of Killa's real faults was her inability to back down from a challenge. She had been one of those little kids you could dare to stick their hand in a snake hole and would do it, do it even after being bit in the past. This was one of those times. She opened her mouth to suggest they meet sometime when the weather would be better, and before she managed to say a word Andy cut her off and said "You're wimping out already girly? Fine. Just drop that bike off at my house and we'll call it even." That was bullshit and she knew it, but Killa got her bike in position and said "On the next clap of thunder?" Andy nodded.  
  
Lightening followed almost immediately by thunder, then both revved and took off; Andy in the lead until the first turn, then Killa all the way to the agreed upon end. It had been a surreal ride, several times she had almost lost control, once she had felt the rear tire spinning on nothing, then been slammed by the wind back onto the road. She should be dead. Toward the end of the course she felt a curious peace that only came over her when she pushed herself to the limit, then the vision began, the one of being underwater in a pink fluid, the one that terrified her. She followed Kadoya's techniques and was able to push past it, focus on the here and now; then she noticed she was at the end of the course and the race was over.  
  
Andy was gone. She rode slowly over the track and called for him, but no one answered. She didn't see any wreckage, but the raging sea would have eaten it anyway. Sick, she was just sick with worry and felt responsible for his death. Imagine her relief, and anger, when she found out Andy was very much alive, and telling anyone who'd listen how he'd tricked her into risking her life and had no intention of paying up "to a stupid little girly." Randall called her the afternoon after the race and told her what was happening. She remembered the conversation vividly:  
  
"Killer, I hear you won a race."  
  
"Yes, umm, what did you hear Randall? Anything about Andy" God she'd been terrified he was dead.  
  
"Well, I just overheard Andy telling everybody up at the club that he tricked you good. He got you up at Oceanside at night in a rainstorm and then let you work the track by yourself after the first turn. He's bragging that he just turned on around and watched you nearly kill yourself. I think he did it so you would get killed, Killer."  
  
Killa didn't say a word. She was so furious she felt faint.  
  
"And he says he's not giving up the bike because it wasn't a real race. I say bullshit, and, to tell the truth, so did most of the other guys in here. He shut up after Shorty threatened to shut him up. So what're you gonna do?"  
  
"I don't know Randall. I guess I'm going to ask him for the bike."  
  
"You can ask, but he isn't going to just give it to you. Why don't you let me get it for you?"  
  
Randall's help sometimes involved other people getting hurt. She wanted the bike, but not bad enough to see someone seriously hurt over it. "That's ok Randall, I'll deal with it, ok?"  
  
"Ok, but you let me know if you need some help. I can't stand that little prick."  
  
"I will. I'm fine, thanks Randall."  
  
"Hey, so how was it? Andy said he kept expecting you to spin off the road, so I know you were going fast. Tell me all Killer, I want to hear it, how fast were you going? That was some storm too, I can't believe you pulled off that crazy shit."  
  
"Randall, look, I have to get back to studying, ok? Talk to you later."  
  
"Sure thing girl. Call me if you need some help with collections, I'll fix you up."  
  
That was three weeks ago and she hadn't heard anything from him since. Maybe this was just a job, probably was. She'd call him while she heated up dinner. Killa slammed some cold pizza in the microwave, hit start, grabbed a cold beer out of the fridge, then popped the top and dialed Randall. Ringing, then Randall's voice, "Randall," flat and tough sounding as usual.  
  
"Hey, Randall!"  
  
"Hey Killer, how you doing?"  
  
"Good. So, what's the job?"  
  
"The usual, run some documents for me."  
  
"How much?"  
  
"Three hundred, plus another one fifty for gas, food, and hotel-it's a long ride to where you're going, ten hours."  
  
"Ten hours my speed or speed limit?"  
  
"Speed limit."  
  
"So, more like a five hour trip then?"  
  
"Yeah, Killer, whatever you say, just as long as they get to the court on time."  
  
"Would you like me to pick them up tomorrow?"  
  
"No, I'll just drop them off at the dojo, it's close to where I'll be tomorrow. You practice at noon tomorrow, right? I can't get there until after five, can you hang out until then?"  
  
"Yep, sure can. See you then?"  
  
"See ya."  
  
Killa hung up, wolfed down her pizza and headed out the door to study. She was glad he didn't bring up Andy, she knew that Randall wouldn't approve of her just letting the thing go and not forcing Andy to give up the bike. It wasn't that she didn't want the bike, it's that she wasn't willing to harm anyone for it. Plus, she was pretty sure, hell, she KNEW that Randall was capable of permanently damaging people and as much as she disliked Andy, she didn't want to see him seriously hurt, or worse. But it still ticked her off-she'd figure out a way to make him pay up this summer, it might just take a while. Right now, she had one last final then, thank God, she'd be free for over three months. 


	9. Bad news from the University

Done! Yes! Killa ran into the house and danced around in the living room shouting "Done! Done! Done! I'm done with finals! I'm free for the summer! Yes!"  
  
Bob looked up at her from the spot where he was slouching on the couch and said sarcastically, "So, I guess you haven't checked the mail then?"  
  
"What are you talking about Bob? I've been too busy to worry about the mail."  
  
"There'll be a couple of letters in there, one that the University's increasing tuition, another letting us know that our scholarships have been reduced due to poor stock market performance and the economy. Maybe you should check your box before you start celebrating your "free" summer?" Bob cocked an eyebrow at her as if to say Duh! He was such an ass sometimes, but he wouldn't make something like this up.  
  
Killa ran down to the mailboxes at the curb, opened hers and dug through her mound of mail. There were three letters from the University, that didn't look good. She opened the first one, great, tuition really had been increased, approximately two thousand dollars per semester, how did they think she'd come up with that? The next letter was a credit card offer; that struck her as funny. Maybe they intended for her to charge her education? The last letter informed her that her scholarship had been reduced from fifteen thousand to ten thousand a year. They were very sorry, sure they were, but not as sorry as she was. All of a sudden she needed an extra nine grand for her education, great, where was she going to get that kind of money? She'd have to race for it, and her bike wasn't as fast as the newer ones, which meant she'd need to take more chances to make up speed.  
  
All her friends would be in the same boat, what would they do? Katie's parents had money, but Julio, Toby, Liz, Kiko, and her all came from families that were either poor, or, like her family, just bad with money. This was her last year; no way was she dropping out now. She'd see her friends tonight, hear what they planned to do, then, she supposed she'd have to take Randall up on his offer and get him to help her collect that bike. Maybe if she went with him she could prevent him from doing any damage.  
  
Killa sighed, then walked slowly back into the house and upstairs. After showering, changing and eating breakfast, it was time to catch the subway to the dojo. She really dreaded today's practice-she was exhausted, angry about the money, and dreading having to deal with Two. She'd already decided to wait until she had some sleep to talk to Kadoya about him, but she wasn't skipping practice just because he was a turkey. Maybe today would be an easy day. Right. And maybe today would be Christmas in May. And maybe she'd win the lottery. And maybe, maybe nothing. Bleah.  
  
When she arrived at the dojo she stomped back into the changing area without saying hello to anyone. One and Two were waiting by the mat with Kadoya. Killa ignored them both.  
  
Two watched Killa stomp across the hall, her head down and her shoulders hunched. Kadoya watched Two watching Killa and smiled when he saw the younger program's concern. Today should be interesting. He was familiar with Killa's grumpy face, it was pretty much a regular occurrence this time of year, but it should be amusing to watch Two try to deal with her today.  
  
Fifteen minutes later Killa stomped back out of the changing room looking like hell. The sides of her mouth were turned down, her face looked pasty and exhausted, bits of hair were sticking out from her poorly tied ponytail and she glared around the room like a baleful demon. Everywhere except at Two, who she completely ignored, as if a large, white potted palm were in his place. When One told her to partner with Two, she heaved an enormous sigh and shuffled into place on the mat, still refusing to look at him.  
  
Two, for his part, was absolutely determined to follow Betty's advice. He would NOT hurt her, he would NOT lose his temper, he WOULD be nice to her no matter what. He wasn't sure what Betty meant by "treat her like a lady" but he thought it meant to let her win. He could do this; it wasn't REAL fighting anyway, just a way for him to interact with Killa. She looked terrible today, what happened to her? And why wouldn't she look at him? That would make sparring difficult.  
  
Killa, for her part, couldn't care less what happened. She was in that ultimate pissy place where she was so concentrated on how rotten she felt, she was determined to be as obnoxious as possible to anyone who got in her way, especially Two. She didn't care if she got hurt, she didn't care how he felt, she didn't care period. This guy couldn't really do anything to her, not with Kadoya present. Normally when she got like this Kadoya took her aside, spoke to her and let her do stretching exercises until she relaxed. Apparently these fools expected her to spar.  
  
In a last ditch effort to be mature, Killa looked at One and asked "May I please be excused from sparring today? I am really not going to be the best partner."  
  
One glanced at Two, who shook his head, then said flatly "No." That was it; the train wreck was now in progress.  
  
Two aimed an extremely slow and gentle kick at her. Killa shuffled out of the way using her peripheral vision-she still wouldn't look at him directly. He stepped closer to her and she slowly shuffled to the other side of the mat staring at the wall the whole time. This went on for a bit, Two would aim a slow hit and Killa would slowly duck it. She just sort of ambled around the edges of the mat staring at the wall. Two's punches and kicks got a little faster, but Killa kept dodging them and refusing to look at him. She'd look at the ceiling, out the plate glass window at the front of the building, anywhere but Two. Since you can't exchange blows with someone who doesn't exist, Killa refused to fight back, which made it impossible for Two to let her win.  
  
Poor Two really was at a loss to know what to do. He'd never dealt with behavior this childish and this bold. Everyone they normally dealt with thought of them as terrifying assassin programs. This really cut down on the foolishness they had to deal with, so Two wasn't well equipped to deal with Killa's behavior. He didn't want to kill her, so what should he do? He stood for a second staring at her staring at the wall, then said dryly, "Are you going to fight, or just stare at the wall?"  
  
Killa mimicked him in a high-pitched falsetto "Are you going to fight or just stare at the wall?"  
  
She was mocking him! Two could feel anger begin to rise in him. Perhaps he needed to let her know how he felt.  
  
"We think that you are a better fighter than this."  
  
Killa repeated this, again in the funny voice, but followed it up by saying something really rude, "We are a condescending ass, yes we are."  
  
"Killa! You will show respect or you will leave!" Kadoya said flatly. "Come here now!"  
  
Killa sighed and stomped off the mat to the office.  
  
Two looked at One and thought "What is wrong with her? Why is she acting like that? Is this because she is still mad at us? We are not being condescending."  
  
One replied, "We think she is just in a bad mood."  
  
They couldn't hear what Kadoya said to Killa, and they were only in the office for a few minutes, but whatever it was Killa came out with a somewhat better attitude.  
  
"I'm sorry I disrespected you Two." She looked like she was being force- fed lemons, but at least she was looking him in the face. "If you are still willing to spar with me, I will now do my best." The lemon face was receding a little bit.  
  
He nodded and assumed a fighting stance. Killa matched him, then aimed a kick at his abdomen; he let her hit him and fell to the mat. She looked puzzled as she watched him get back up, then aimed a weak kick to his head. It barely connected and he fell down again. Killa was now looking pissed. "Are you making fun of me? I said I was sorry." She looked over at Kadoya, who looked irritated with the both of them.  
  
"You both," He pointed to the office, "Now."  
  
When they got inside the office, Kadoya pulled two chairs away from the wall, and turned them to face each other with about a foot of space between them. He pointed to Killa, then to a chair and repeated the process with Two. After they sat down, Two with an absolutely expressionless face, Killa looking guilty; he leaned against the desk and watched them for a minute without saying anything.  
  
Finally he spoke, "Killa, Two has many things to teach you that you need to learn. I believe you wish to grow in your abilities, despite what I have witnessed today. I am aware that he has offended you in some way, but you must weigh that offense against the knowledge he has to give you. Better a skilled enemy than a weak friend, and Two is not, despite what you may believe, your enemy." Killa nodded and glanced at Two who tried to look friendly.  
  
Kadoya turned to Two, "You will push my students to their limits as well as respect them. Your motives are your own, I do not care why you have chosen to do this, but they will not interfere with your role as a teacher. Killa wishes to learn, you will spar with her as with any other student." Two nodded.  
  
"Now," Kadoya paused and looked at both of them, "you will not leave this office until you have worked out your differences." He then stood up, exited, and shut the door.  
  
They sat in silence for a few minutes, both looking as uncomfortable as possible. Two watched Killa and realized that she was exhausted and worried about something. She had dark circles under her eyes from lack of sleep and kept playing with the end of her ponytail. In a rare moment of empathy, he realized how difficult it must be for her to face him; he began to see her as a person, not just a challenge.  
  
"Killa, what we did yesterday was inexcusable. We think we caused you to feel helpless, we don't blame you if you hate us. We were trying to make up for it today, but we think we didn't." Two said this quietly, then held out his hand to Killa to see if she might take it.  
  
Killa hesitated, and then took his hand, leaned forward to press it against her cheek. "It's ok Two. I don't hate you. I'm just really tired and stressed out from finals. Yesterday was, umm, strange, but I don't think you meant to hurt me."  
  
Two reached out, began stroking her hair with his other hand and asked, "Is there anything we can do?"  
  
Sighing, Killa scooted closer to him and said, "No, I just need to get some sleep is all. I'll be back to normal tomorrow, as close to normal as I ever get." She looked up at him and smiled wryly.  
  
Two said nothing, but continued to stroke her hair. He undid it from the scrunchy, ran his fingers through it while watching her face to make sure she was willing to let him touch her. She had a headache; he could feel the exhaustion in her body as well. Perhaps she would let him hold her? He leaned forward to circle her with his arms, but she stood up. As he leaned back disappointed, she settled herself on his lap and put her arms around his neck. He felt pleasant surprise; that was more than he hoped for.  
  
She snuggled into his chest, her head tucked under his chin, her warm breath against the skin of his neck. He slowly stroked her back with one hand, her hair with the other. One of her hands was idly caressing his neck, and the other was wrapped in his dreads. "Your hair is so pretty," she said quietly.  
  
He felt her tension begin to ease, her muscles unknot and relax. Breathing slowed, body limp against him, he realized she had fallen asleep. He waited a few minutes, then picked her up and left the office.  
  
Kadoya smiled when he saw Two holding a sleeping Killa curled against his chest, then he walked back to the practice area to watch his granddaughter continue practicing. Perhaps these two would work out well, at least for a while.  
  
Two stood, exited the office silently, and carried her upstairs to their unlocked apartment, then laid her on his newly programmed bed. She woke up briefly, realized where she was, then smiled at him sleepily and said, "You don't have to go."  
  
"You need sleep," he whispered, then immediately sat down next to her.  
  
"It's ok," she said.  
  
Two reached for her, and she nestled close to him. She pillowed her head on his shoulder and sleepily looked into his eyes. He wanted to kiss her, but settled for stroking her hair until she fell asleep with a contented sigh. The warm weight of her body against his felt comforting; he found himself slipping into rest as well.  
  
One walked upstairs after he dismissed the class. He sensed a feeling of peaceful satisfaction from his brother's resting mind. The door to his brother's room was open so he peeked inside. Two and Killa were entwined on the bed, Two's arms around her, his leg over hers, her cuddling up against him half-smiling in her sleep. One stepped closer, and briefly watched her while she slept. The front of her jacket had loosened as she moved in her sleep; One could barely see the curve of a soft round breast. He moved closer and settled into a chair by the bed, studied her face, lingered on her throat and lips, the curve of her hip where his brother's hand lay-he wished he could join them.  
  
Maybe Killa would be able to accept their nature; she accepted Kadoya, but that could be because he seemed much closer to human that either of them. Also she didn't appear to know he was a program, or that the Matrix even existed. They have would make her see how much better the two of them could be than any one human; that should be simple enough. How to tell her about the Matrix, and themselves as programs, was more of a problem.  
  
She read like an anomaly; that was another thing that was strange about her. Since the peace, anyone who wanted to leave the Matrix was allowed to leave, surprisingly there were about the same percentage of humans who chose to leave as when the rebels had to "save" them. Why was Killa still here? With her potential she should be a prime candidate for the rebels to recruit. If she'd chosen to stay, she should still have some awareness of the Matrix. Since the peace the machines didn't delete that memory anymore, just cautioned the humans to keep it to themselves if they became aware, yet wanted to stay. Killa seemed to have no awareness at all; it was strange.  
  
As Killa shifted in her sleep, Two curled around her more tightly. One felt the ghost of a smile on his lips, his brother was, for all his complaints about her, becoming as fascinated by Killa as he was. It was puzzling to them both, but so far enjoyable. He got up, shut the door so as not to disturb them, and walked into the living room; it still looked unreasonably bare, and the kitchen area was completely empty. One popped open his laptop and got to work. It was a big open loft, so probably a mix of modernist influenced furniture would do well. Maybe he could have the loft decorated by the time they woke up, he'd try. Perhaps they would take her out tonight, if she would go with them.  
  
One smiled and started selecting items; as he wrote the programs for them, they appeared poof! out of thin air exactly where he wanted them, already hung up etc. Time passed quickly as he altered the loft to suit himself. Click and it was flawlessly clean inside and out, click and the concrete floors became a lovely dark hardwood. Click and the windows widened and lengthened, letting in more natural light. Finally he modified the building's code to make the loft truly private-- any rebel or program who tried to look in on them would see him and Two watching movies, eating dinner, sleeping; a rotating clip of false activities instead of what they were really doing. Eventually the loft was finished and One padded downstairs to talk to Kadoya. Not much of a talker, but maybe he could get the program to give him some answers to his questions about Killa. 


	10. The second kiss is always better

Kadoya was working on the computer in the office when One found him. Waiting for him to finish, One started examining the office's décor. The walls were covered with smiling humans, Killa caught in a mid air kick, Kadoya's family, Kiko holding up a trophy, another grandchild walking across a stage grinning from ear to ear and holding a college diploma-why did these illusions matter so much to him? Perhaps Kadoya struggled with boredom, much as he and his brother?  
  
"Killa is fine?" Kadoya's voice broke One's reverie.  
  
"Yes. She is sleeping." He didn't add: "in my brother's arms," he wasn't sure what the program thought of them, clearly he knew who they were, who the Merovingian was, and probably what they did for the Merovingian. It would be unfortunate if it became necessary to remove Kadoya as an obstacle, Killa would not like it, he would put it off as long as possible.  
  
"Good." Kadoya turned back to the computer, a slight smile on his lips.  
  
Waiting, waiting, still the program kept typing, finally One decided that if there was to be a conversation he would have to start it.  
  
"How long have you know Killa?" Kadoya kept typing as he answered.  
  
"A bit over three years."  
  
One waited some more, and when he received no more information, queried again, "How did you first contact her?"  
  
"She became a student at the dojo."  
  
Was Kadoya deliberately being difficult? One leaned against the wall; this could go on forever.  
  
"Ask. Dispense with human niceties. What is it you wish to know?" Kadoya stated flatly.  
  
"Killa is an anomaly. Why is she still here?"  
  
"Why do you want to know?"  
  
One deliberated what to say, "We just do." That would have to suffice; he didn't care to discuss his motives at present.  
  
"This will not be discussed with her. She is unaware of the Matrix, for the most part."  
  
"We will comply," One agreed reluctantly.  
  
"Killa does not wish to leave. Three years ago when her boyfriend was unplugged, he attempted to convince Killa of the existence of the Matrix, then tried to force-feed her a tracer program. She resisted."  
  
"He was unplugged, how did she resist effectively?"  
  
"I taught her techniques designed to enhance her ability to use the Matrix." Kadoya paused, "During the fight however she began to wake up on her own."  
  
"How is that possible?"  
  
"Do you remember the human Olympic runner? The one the machines had to cover up?"  
  
Yes, One remembered that quite well. In the middle of the Olympics, a human started running faster than any human ever could. It was an enormous mess for the machines to conceal.  
  
"Sometimes a human pushes themselves farther than any human should be able to go, when this happens, they may spontaneously wake up in their pods. Since there is no tracer program, there is no guarantee that they will be found before they drown in the sewers."  
  
Kadoya checked One's face for reaction. Interesting, he was alarmed by the thought of Killa's death  
  
Kadoya continued, "Killa's body has been located by the resistance, if she woke up, she would not drown, that is not the issue. She prefers the Matrix; of course this is largely unconscious."  
  
"Why does she wish to stay here?" One didn't understand why any human would want to leave, but since so many valued their "freedom" it might be important to understand why Killa would wish to stay.  
  
"She loves her friends, and, I suppose, her family-she stays for them, for human connection. She would not be allowed to see them if she were unplugged. The rebels have their rules." Kadoya's voice reflected how much he disapproved of the rebels and their rules.  
  
One was more puzzled than ever "These are not her real family, they are assigned to her by the machines."  
  
"The emotions and connections are real. Are you less real that an unplugged human? What is real?"  
  
One chose not to answer such a foolish question.  
  
"There is one problem, at some level Killa is aware that the limitations of this world are malleable. This leads her to push herself in ways that could cause her to wake up completely. The techniques I teach enable her to resist that awakening. That is also the purpose for your pushing her, I wish to see how far she has progressed in those techniques."  
  
Kadoya turned to One, scanned his face for reaction, then said in a warning tone of voice "If her life were truly threatened, she would download herself to her body, assuming she were able to exit before termination. She would not be allowed back in the Matrix by the resistance. Permanently exited, and she would hate it."  
  
One didn't know what to say, so he said nothing. It was more complex to be human than he realized before.  
  
"Make sure your "other job" does not interfere with her safety. You would find that to be a costly mistake." There was no question that Kadoya was threatening him, how amusing.  
  
"And if it does?" One smirked.  
  
Kadoya gazed at him placidly, then said "Tell the Merovingian, when you see him, that Bishamon sends him greetings." He then turned back to his work and ignored One.  
  
One wandered out into the empty dojo and idly started stretching. A noise, he turned around to see what it was and saw a human entering the dojo. He knew that human, a middle rung enforcer in the Merovingian's employ with a reputation for efficiency. What was he doing here, he seemed to be looking for someone?  
  
"How may we help you?" One stepped forward and was pleased to see the man's face pale a bit in recognition.  
  
"I have a package for Killa Bonsol. Is she here?" The human looked nervous. Interesting.  
  
"We will accept the package for her." One's voice purred with threat.  
  
He then contacted his brother's mind to let him know Killa had a visitor and felt Twos' surprise when he showed him an image of the human in question.  
  
"I need to explain it to her." The slight tremor in the human's voice became more pronounced the closer One came to him. Amusing, he must be aware of his and Two's work.  
  
One stopped within inches of the man's face, reached into his pocket to retrieve his switchblade in case it became necessary. "Explain it to us," his voice a whisper.  
  
Sweat was forming on the human's face, a sure sign of stress, "It's a surprise, Killa's my friend, I just want to,"  
  
"Show us this "surprise." One followed the human to the front of the dojo where he found a new racing bike with a big red bow on it and a big box wrapped in shiny silver foil. The box had a label on it "To Killer, Win!- Randall."  
  
Killer? Killa's nickname was "killer"? What did this human intend for her to win? And what exactly was meant by this present? He wasn't very pleased with this human giving Killa expensive presents.  
  
"What is in the box?" One opened his straight razor and glided over to the human who backed away obviously trying not to look scared.  
  
"Nothing bad, a set of Bates racing leathers, that's all." The human backed up against a light pole, stumbled, fell, and looked irritated with himself.  
  
One towered over the human, smirking. He nudged him with the toe of his boot, "What sort of races? Explain. How do you come to know Killa?"  
  
"High school, she, we, took an art class together." Randall stammered.  
  
"It has been quite some time since high school though, hasn't it? Explain further."  
  
One was quite enjoying this talk. After all, he behaved himself all during the class despite the ineptitude of some of the students. His brother could take his time waking Killa, that would suit him nicely. He and this human would have a little chat about this "friendship."  
  
Two heard his brother calling him and gradually came back to awareness. "Two, could we wake up? There is a person here to see Killa." One mental voice dripped with disapproval; then he showed Two an image of the human and Two could understand why. How did Killa come to be involved with such a vicious useful human, and involved in what way? Two opened his eyes and gazed at Killa snuggled against his neck; she felt him shift and followed the warmth of his body, cuddling as close to him as possible, her breath warm on his neck-One had lowered the temperature in the loft. "Nicely done," Two thought to One gratefully. One sent back an image of himself smirking.  
  
Two traced the line of Killa's jaw with his finger, then began to stroke her neck. The dark circles had faded from under her eyes, but were still somewhat visible. He checked her code and saw several small adjustments he could make so she would feel better. As he stroked her hair she whimpered slightly and parted her lips, Two bent his head to kiss her, then thought better of it. He remembered what Betty said about behaving himself. He contented himself with stroking the skin of her neck, then following it down to where her workout jacket covered the swell of her breasts. Two traced lazy circles on the skin visible above her jacket, deciding what to do. Betty's words warred with his instinct to do what he wanted, regardless of the consequences. Then he remembered Killa crying last time and felt his desire taper off. He removed his hand and turned back to look at Killa's face; he should wake her up.  
  
She was watching him, her eyes half-lidded and sleepy. She reached out and cupped his cheek, then slid her fingers up into his hair and pulled him down to her. He knew there was someone waiting downstairs for her, let him wait; he'd wanted to kiss her for what felt like so long. He began the kiss gently, moving his lips across hers and then along the edge of her jaw, he heard her indrawn breath as he kissed along her neck to the hollow at the base of her throat. She stroked his hair and then along the sensitive base of his neck, slipped her hands over his jacketed back. Much more pleasant to have her hands on his skin, One leaned back, undid the belt and took the jacket off. Her eyes followed him the entire time; he reached down to the belt on her jacket, but stopped when he saw her pull away a millimeter. She'd take it off when she was ready.  
  
He leaned over her, watched her lips part in anticipation of his kiss, her eyes dilated with desire, he wanted to see her desire, memorize it. "Kiss me already," she murmured, "I want you to kiss me, please," she paused and leaned forward until he could feel the breath from her mouth on his lips and then whispered it again, "please," her fingers in his hair, hands moving over his chest, then his back as he kissed her first gently, then more and more passionately. This time she matched his passion, pressed her body against him, whimpered into his mouth, yielded completely to him.  
  
He rolled onto his back pulling her with him; she broke the kiss, leaned back straddling him, his hands sliding down her back, her hair half obscuring her face as she ran her hands down his chest. She smiled a predatory smile, then bent down to lightly nibble along his rib cage. He gasped as she kissed her way up his chest, circled his nipples with her tongue. Source, who taught her that? Slowly she kissed her way along his jaw until she reached his mouth, where she maddeningly decided to pause, then slid off him onto the floor.  
  
Two felt frustrated that she didn't want more, and satisfied that she desired him. He stood up, circled her from behind and bent his head to nuzzle at her neck. She'll yield he thought, but instead of yielding she stiffened slightly then said, "Let's go downstairs." He let her go immediately, but looked a little grumpy about it. Killa smiled when she saw his face, then leaned in to kiss him intensely one last time. So that was how it worked? Two filed that insight into Killa away. He would be sure to remember that.  
  
He watched her as she walked to the mirror and attempted to smooth her hair. "You wouldn't have a brush would you? Or a comb?" Killa paused then asked, "Do you know where my hair tie is?" as she scanned the room for it. Two liked her hair down better anyway, so he said No," even though he knew exactly where it was, in his pocket. "We have a comb somewhere in the bathroom. We don't have much need of it ourself, you understand." Killa smiled at his attempt at humor as he walked to the bathroom at the back of the room.  
  
He grabbed the comb and walked back to her, she had retied her jacket and smoothed her pants down; except for her messy hair she looked as good as anyone ever did in workout clothes. He moved closer and then noticed her lips were slightly puffy from where he had kissed her, he felt pleased that he had marked her as his even in this slight way. She reached for the comb and he said, "Let us?"  
  
"Ok, but be gentle. It's pretty messy." She followed him into the living room and sat down on the footstool while he sat behind her on the couch. He proceeded to gently comb out her hair, a process made vastly easier by his ability to manipulate the Matrix. Basically, he ran the comb through her hair and the tangles and snarls undid themselves, her hair smooth and gleaming in the wake of the comb. He took his time, partly because his brother was now sending him irritated images of the human pacing the dojo, and partly because he was enjoying Killa's response to him.  
  
When he was halfway finished with her hair, she sighed and said "Two, you have the gentlest hands. No one has ever been able to comb out my hair without a single pull before." No one had ever called anything he did gentle before. He tried on the word; it wasn't too bad. With Killa he could be gentle. He finished and gathered her hair in his hands; it slipped cleanly through his fingers.  
  
"Thank you, Two, that was lovely," she said then leaned briefly against him. He followed her downstairs, with a slightly happy look on his face. 


	11. Killer's L'il Girly

Killa heard Randall's voice before she saw him.  
  
"No, not at all. It's just a bit of blood, no, it'll heal just fine."  
  
She then heard One's voice, it sounded weird, a bit threatening?  
  
"We understand one another, we presume?"  
  
"Yes, I told you, that's it."  
  
As she rounded the landing, she saw Randall standing with his back to her facing One. One's face looked cold, there was an unpleasant smirk playing about his lips. He seemed different from the One she'd interacted with, almost a different person. What had they been talking about?  
  
As she was thinking this, Two noticed the look on her face and thought to his brother "We are disturbing Killa," and sent One an image of her expression. One adjusted the expression of his face to appear friendlier.  
  
Killa watched One for a second and noticed a new expression come over his face, he looked sort of nauseous. Maybe he just didn't feel well and Randall had said something to upset him, like that would be a surprise. Randall was about as friendly as a pit viper to nearly everyone.  
  
"Randall!" He spun around and grinned to see her, then looked appraisingly at Two behind her, especially since Two deliberately picked that moment to circle Killa's waist with his arm. She looked irritated, brushed Two's arm away, then ran down the remaining steps to Randall and jumped in his arms.  
  
Randall caught her and spun her around. This was their regular greeting, but after One had interrogated him, he felt a little nervous about it. Plus Two was openly glaring at him now, the corners of his mouth so far down they all but touched his chin. Where did she meet these two? They were about as bad as they came from what he had heard. Normally he didn't worry about other people, but Killa was an exception. She was too good, too nice for her own safety. It could get her in trouble if she met the wrong people, and these guys were about as wrong as people got.  
  
He was in a real bind. One made it very clear to him what would happen if he revealed their real job to Killa. He was to tell her, if she asked, that they were bodyguards for a wealthy businessman. This was true, but he'd also heard other, darker, rumors of what they did, of some of their extra duties for the Merovingian. He hadn't heard any stories about them abusing women, that was true, but he hadn't asked either. Christ, Killa could pick'em.  
  
Also, One made it equally clear that Killa was not to be involved in any of Randall's illegal ventures, as if he would do that to her. He was proud of her, proud to see her doing something with her life, plus, he knew he owed her for all her help in the past. He'd never say it, but Killa was the only real family he had. He wanted her as far away as possible from anything that could hurt her, and those guys could definitely hurt her.  
  
And there'd be nothing he could do.  
  
He thought about the exchange he had with One outside the dojo. The cuts on his neck and chest came from the questions he'd insisted on asking One, starting with, "What is Killa to you?"  
  
One grabbed him by the hair, yanked him off the ground where he'd tripped and fell, then held a straight razor to his throat and said, "We do not answer your questions, you answer ours."  
  
Randall was scared, sure, but he doubted the man would kill him with Killa upstairs. "She's my friend. You want me to be quiet, I want to know--is she for the Merovingian?"  
  
He'd heard stories of women fetched for the Merovingain. True, none of them were killed, but they were usually a little off after the encounter, and some were worse. He'd heard about a couple of suicides that occurred in the restaurant, and one at club Hel, all women who received the Merovingian's attentions. Killa wasn't going to go that way, no fing way.  
  
"She is NOT for the Merovingian," the man ground out as the razor pressed a thin cut into Randall's throat, "and she no longer any of YOUR concern." So, the guy thought he was Killa's boyfriend. Great.  
  
"Killa is my friend, my best friend, my only friend. That's all." Randall paused and worked up his courage, "If she is not for the Merovingain, then why are you here?"  
  
"We are not the Merovingain's pimps. We do not fetch women for the Merovingian, nor do we participate in his 'activities.' You are aware of what it is we do." One drew a thin line a few inches down Randall's chest. Great, another t-shirt ruined. This was one of his favorites too.  
  
"You are bodyguards, and"  
  
"You know what we do," One hissed.  
  
Randall always thought that cliché about blood running cold was stupid, how could your blood run cold? But he felt goose bumps stand up on his skin, and his blood, it felt cold. They were here to kill Killa. Today was going to be the day he died.  
  
After the thin cut down Randall's chest, One held the razor at his side. That gave Randall some room to maneuver; he elbowed One at the same time as he grabbed for his gun. The assassin let him go, but gave him another little cut on his belly as he spun away and escaped.  
  
Randall pulled his Kimber .45 out of its holster and aimed it at One's head. "Answer the fing question. You're here to kill her? What?"  
  
Twirling his razor, One smirked at Randall, obviously not the least bit afraid. Randall remembered the other rumors, rumors of super-human abilities. Well, a bullet would stop most anything, f the rumors.  
  
"We teach here. She interests us." A pause, then One continued, "This is unusual behavior for you. We are familiar with your reputation, she must be important to you."  
  
"I already said she's my friend. She helped me out in high school, I told you, she tutored me, that's all."  
  
"You risk your life for a friendly tutor?" One sneered.  
  
"I didn't like the shave you tried to give me. I prefer to keep the skin on my neck." Randall eyed him for a second, then continued, "So, tell me this, you"  
  
One didn't let him finish. With a bored wave of his hand he said, "Not that you could interfere, but no, we do not plan to harm her. She is not a target. She will not be a target. You will do nothing to endanger her either. You will do nothing to interfere with us. You will tell her nothing about our lives with the Merovingian, except that we are bodyguards."  
  
Then he shut his razor, put it in his pocket and lazily sneered, "Put down your weapon, this IS a public street."  
  
Slipping his gun back into the holster, Randall felt like he had just passed a test of some kind. He still had mixed feelings about the twins' intentions, but at least they claimed they didn't plan to kill her-and there was no reason for them to lie to him, he couldn't stop them, no, they were too powerful.  
  
As they walked back inside the dojo, One turned to him and whispered quietly, "It would be unfortunate for Killa to lose such a faithful friend, please remember what we expect you to say. We will tell her the truth ourselves, when we are ready. Understood?"  
  
What could he say? "Understood," he said grimly, then started pacing the floor waiting for her to appear from wherever she was. This was bad.  
  
Killa brought him back to reality by saying "What the hell is that on your shirt? Blood? What happened?" She looked him up and down as she stepped back from him. He realized that she now had a few spots of blood on her shirt as well from the big hug he gave her. "What the hell happened to you? Jesus Randall!" Killa said as she saw the cuts on his neck and chest. "You need to have those bandaged and cleaned, God, those are fresh! Who cut you? Ewww, and now there's blood on me." She pulled him towards the bathroom, chastising him the whole way. One gave him a look as he passed that made it pretty clear he better come up with a plausible explanation, and quick.  
  
"Who hurt you, are you ok? Take that shirt off, c'mon, let me see those. Back here, sit down." He peeled his shirt off and sat on the toilet as Killa got the first aid kit down. The cuts really weren't any big deal, hell, he'd done worse to himself falling off a bike.  
  
"They're no big deal Killa, just a couple of cuts." Killa looked at him like he was nuts.  
  
"These are knife cuts, a damn sharp knife judging by the bleeding. Care to explain?"  
  
"Nope."  
  
"Asshole."  
  
"It's no big deal, I told you Killer. I got in a little bit of trouble but it's fine."  
  
Killa sighed and shook her head. He knew she was familiar with his idea of a little bit of trouble. Once she visited him in the hospital-- he'd been shot a couple of times. When she walked in he was chatting up the nurse and acting like it was a vacation, not a near death experience.  
  
He remembered what he told her when she cried to see him hurt, "Get used to it Killer. This is me, my life. Cry at my funeral. Today you should be happy to see me alive, yeah?"  
  
"Yeah." She'd sobbed, then, "Randall, you can do something else, I wish"  
  
"This is me Killer, you're going to have to deal."  
  
And she did, but she didn't like it.  
  
Now he understood how she must feel a lot of the time. He didn't like her new friends one bit. Plus, it looked like at least one of them wanted to be more than friends, and that worried him. Killa wasn't very predictable on what she thought was "safe."  
  
That same damn girl that wouldn't even try marijuana because, as she said, "She didn't want to die early," had no problem with street racing. Who knew how she'd react to them? She was friends with him and she had at least a ballpark idea of what he did, so the twins' job might not bother her, or rather bother her enough to make her stop seeing them. She knew he hurt people, he could tell that from the way she'd not wanted him to help with Andy. Shit, who knew what she'd do?  
  
Killa felt worried about Randall, this was nothing new though. "Randall, you sure you're ok?"  
  
"Yep."  
  
Killa sighed, the cuts were really minor, just scratches really, but had bled like hell. Whatever he got cut with, it must have been really, really sharp-it had been near impossible to get the cuts to stop trickling blood. Finally she had stuck a bandage on them and said, "Good enough," then glared at Randall who just raised his eyebrows at her as if to say, "And what is new about this?"  
  
Damn him.  
  
"Ok, Killer, ok, I get your point. I'll be careful." Randall grinned a charmingly lopsided grin.  
  
Killa frowned to show how much she believed that, then her expression softened as she realized that she should just enjoy her friend while she had him, he wasn't going to change.  
  
"Ok, so what's this job you have for me?" Killa packed the first aide kit back in the cabinet and cleaned up the bathroom. Glancing briefly in the mirror, she decided to wait until she got home to wash out the few spots of blood on her jacket. It wasn't the first time she'd washed blood out of it, but usually it was her blood, not someone else's.  
  
"Same as usual, run some documents to the courthouse. Leave'em there. Come back."  
  
"Where to?" Killa asked as they walked back into the dojo.  
  
"City courthouse in Brink." Randall reached into his back pocket for his wallet. "Damn, left my wallet in the car. Walk me out?"  
  
"Sure." Killa said with a smile.  
  
Where were One and Two? Killa looked around the dojo, but they were nowhere in sight. Hmm, maybe they went back upstairs? Killa thought about Two-- the kissing had been amazing, but not too smart. He was her teacher; she'd have to cut that crap out. Mmmm, but her lips still tingled from where he kissed her, oh, and when he took his jacket off, god, he was so beautiful. And he'd tasted so good. Liz would tell her to go for it, this was college, have a summer fling, it doesn't have to be serious. Maybe she would, teacher or not.  
  
Most guys bored her within a couple of weeks, or she ended up liking them as friends. The twins were weird; everything about them was weird, including the pretentious way they spoke. We instead of I, who said that except for royals and stuck up English profs? But they weren't really stuck up, not exactly. And their way of speaking, acting, moving, being, seemed somehow natural to them, not a pretense. Wonder what their parents were like? Killa laughed to herself as she tried to picture a family reunion where everyone was unable or unwilling to use the first person.  
  
There they were, standing by that motorcycle, that motorcycle, she knew that motorcycle! Killa's eyes widened as she saw Andy's motorcycle sitting there shining with a big red bow on it. She turned to Randall who was grinning from ear to ear, then back to the motorcycle, then hugged Randall who grinned even bigger, if that was possible.  
  
"Oh my God, Randall, is that what I think it is?"  
  
Killa ran over to the motorcycle grinning and laughing like a little kid. She ran her hands over the sides of it, looked and saw the big box next to it that said "Killer," and picked it up.  
  
"God, this is kind of heavy? What did you do Randall?" Killa paused and looked thoughtful, "Randall, Andy is"  
  
"Andy is still alive, unfortunately."  
  
"Alive with all his parts still working and attached?" Killa asked.  
  
"Most of them." Randall watched her grimace, then grinned and said, "No, he is alive and mostly well. I, umm, well, here's some photos."  
  
"Do I really want to look at those?" Killa looked nervous.  
  
"Definitely." Randall grinned as he handed them to her.  
  
"Oh, Oh, Randall. I can't believe you. This is beautiful. No, I mean it is so wrong."  
  
The photos were of Andy's back. On said back was now a full back tattoo that said "KILLER'S L'IL GIRLY" in purple block letters. Around this saying were brilliantly colored tattoos of cartoon ponies grazing on cartoon grass, cute little girls holding bunnies, posies or kittens, dancing bears, big eyed puppies; it was beautiful.  
  
Randall watched her face cycle through a variety of reactions to finally settle at glee, pure undisguised glee.  
  
"I knew you'd be pissed if he 'had an accident' so I had to come up with another punishment." Randall felt proud of this one; it had really taken some thought.  
  
Killa just shook her had and smiled.  
  
"And I made him pay for it. And that present. All of it." "Randall, I love you. Can I keep these? How long did that tattoo take? That must've hurt? How'd you get him to do it?" Killa couldn't take her eyes off the pic.  
  
Randall glanced over at the twins when she said the "I love you." They were walking closer, looks of curiosity on their faces. Maybe they hadn't heard her, or figured out they really were just friends, then he saw Two glare at him and narrow his eyes. Great.  
  
"Sure you can keep'em. But if you lose them, the pics are on the net anyway. published them under their ink art section." Randall paused to savor the absolutely evil smile that spread across Killa face.  
  
"It took a few days, ten hour sessions each day. Yeah, it hurt, but not as much as I wanted it to." Killa grimaced again.  
  
"Hey, he tried to kill you Killer, he deserved worse." And, actually he got worse than she was seeing. Randall didn't cause permanent damage, but he'd hit Andy so hard he'd broken his jaw in a couple of pieces, then broke his collar bone for good measure. It had made watching the tattooing a lot more fun since he refused let Andy go to the hospital until the tattoo was done.  
  
Killa was shaking the box, trying to figure out what was in it like a kid at Christmas. One picked up the pics and Two looked over his shoulder. Both smirked and laughed evilly when they got to the full pic of the whole tattoo.  
  
"Nicely done Randall. A good revenge given the constraints." One said with genuine relish in his voice.  
  
"Umm, yes, shows real creativity." Two added, smiling terrifyingly.  
  
"Thanks." Randall was still uneasy, but at least they liked his work.  
  
Killa was still shaking the box. That girl.  
  
"Open it already Killer."  
  
"Ok, ok." Killa tore into the paper, then pulled open the box. First she pulled out a new helmet, a beautiful shiny black racing helmet. Then reached back in and pulled out a racing jacket, then a pair of pants and finally a pair of black racing boots. She held up the jacket, it had flames sewn into the sleeve so it looked like the wearer's arms were on fire. Turning over the jacket, she squealed in shock.  
  
"Oh God, Randall. That is soooo tacky. I love it." She gave him a look that made his heart skip a beat, made him briefly reconsider why exactly he was "just her friend," then grinned from ear to ear. A guy could go a while on a look with that much love in it.  
  
On the back of the jacket was "Killer" in blood red Gothic letters, on top of the name was a silver halo, underneath it were more flames. It looked like the name was rising out of an incredibly hot spot of hell. Killa picked up the pants and checked them out. They had matching flames licking up the legs.  
  
"I'll be back!" Killa said and ran inside with the Bates leathers and boots. Randall heard her calling Kadoya to come out and see. Whew, the twins would leave him alone once the old man was outside, although that old man made him uncomfortable too.  
  
One smirked at him as he leaned against the wall of the building; Two was still glaring. If they expected him to break the silence, they'd be disappointed. Randall crossed his arms across his chest and waited.  
  
"Just a friend?" Two hissed, then padded closer.  
  
"Yep. A good friend. Like a brother." Curious, the guy paused and looked thoughtful, then smiled a terrifying smile and held out his hand.  
  
"Yes, we would do the same for our brother. We understand." Ok, whatever you say mister, Randall thought then took the twin's hand and shook it. Two then made sure to demonstrate how much stronger he was by squeezing Randall's hand until it hurt.  
  
Jeez, these guys didn't miss a single opportunity to intimidate, Randall thought with a bit of admiration.  
  
Kadoya came out of the dojo followed by Killa. Wow. He'd got the leathers just right. Both twins mouths opened, then snapped shut, looks of what could only be lust on their faces before they schooled their features back to impassiveness. So both wanted her. Great.  
  
"I look like a slut Randall! These are way, way too tight! You know what size I need, this is a size smaller than I ever get. I look like a ho." Killa paused. "And why did you include a leather tank top, ewww, no way I'm wearing that." She held the offending garment out at arms length. "I'll keep my t-shirt thank you."  
  
"You wear your clothes way too loose, and you can't afford the wind resistance. Those old leathers fit you before you started working out so much-- they look dumb now," Randall said, which was the truth. "Hell, Killer, the wind makes the pants snap. They're racing leathers, not lounging leathers."  
  
"Yeah, but why'd you have them accent the," Killa nodded at her chest, "I mean that creates resistance too."  
  
"I just had them cut some room for what you already had. Psychological warfare," Randall said, then grinned.  
  
One looked her up and down and said, "We like it. It looks very flattering on you." "Yes, very flattering," Two agreed emphasizing the very with a smirk.  
  
Killa blushed, so she liked them too. Great. More to worry about, just what he needed.  
  
"Kadoya?" Killa said and turned to him.  
  
"We can see the merits of the garment for racing." Kadoya's voice held the tiniest hint of laughter. "And it does not make you look like a "ho," more an attractive young woman."  
  
Time to change the subject. "Ok, now you owe me. I want to hear about that race of yours. C'mon, give," Randall said.  
  
One and Two watched with interest as Killa relayed the story. They were no longer concerned with Randall, it was clear he was a brother figure to her. Good, she could use a friend as useful as Randall. One had downloaded the conversation with Randall as Two had shared his experiences with Killa. Two could feel his brother's mind lingering over her trailing kisses up his torso, relishing the sensations for himself. And that suit, it made her look delicious. He wanted to touch it, then take it off her slowly. Make her ask him to take it off her, make her say please. Randall was right, that suit was psychological warfare; he could barely concentrate on what she was saying.  
  
"God, Randall it was so cool. At first I was scared, a little. I got there early and went over the track slow to make sure it was clear, you couldn't see a darn thing between flashes of lightening and the wind was howling like something out of a crazy horror movie." Her face became rapt as she began to remember.  
  
"Then Andy showed up, and the race began."  
  
"How fast did you get up to?"  
  
"205, but I had to slow down some on the switchbacks."  
  
"Jesus Killer, you're lucky you're still alive."  
  
"Yeah. I felt the back tire skid a couple of times, then the wind caught me and slammed me a couple of times." Her face took on a curiously distant look, like she was seeing something she couldn't quite understand. One saw Kadoya watching her intently.  
  
"Then you had the vision again," Kadoya said quietly.  
  
Killa still had that faraway look "Once, only once. The wind caught me as I was rounding a corner into a switchback and spun the rear of the bike out over the ocean. I could feel the tire spinning on nothing, the bike starting to tilt into the fall, then the wind slammed me back onto the road and I barely managed to not wreck."  
  
Killa paused, then smiled from ear to ear, "It was incredible. I could hear the ocean, I could feel the rain pattering on my skin-- it felt like time slowed down to nothing."  
  
One listened carefully, it sounded like she was describing the experience of slowing the Matrix.  
  
"Adrenalin junkie," Randall said.  
  
Killa just grinned, then looked at Kadoya.  
  
"The vision started, but I was able to control it. I ended up feeling more focused, more in control. The techniques really work Kadoya, thanks."  
  
"It would be good if you avoided situations that required their use." Kadoya said firmly.  
  
Killa looked shame faced and hung her head a little.  
  
"But you are here, and it is a very nice bike." Kadoya said with smile, then walked back inside the dojo.  
  
One was amused to see Killa shoot a look at Kadoya's retreating back that could be roughly read as "Old fart." She then ran over to the bike, jumped on and started motioning to Randall to give her the keys. 


	12. Would you like to go for a ride?

"Keys, keys, keys!!!!!!"  
  
Randall tossed her the keys; they were on a Hello Kitty key chain. "Hey, nutbox, I need a ride home. And put your helmet on."  
  
"Ok, ok, just let me try it out around the block ok." Killa cranked the engine and it rumbled to life. She gazed down at the bike with what could only be described as adoration, then peeled out and shot down the street like a cat on fire. In about two seconds she came roaring around the block and slid back to a stop spinning the bike sideways and stopping within inches of him and Two grinning evilly.  
  
"Who wants a ride?" She said waggling her eyebrows at him first, then Two. "Or are you too scared?"  
  
One couldn't resist a challenge, plus he'd get to put his arms around her in all that leather. Two glared at him because she'd asked One first.  
  
One also couldn't resist tweaking his brother, "She still prefers us even though we have not had a chance to kiss her. Perhaps we should update our kissing technique to make it more memorable?"  
  
Two glared at him, then sent images of Killa saying please. That was hard to argue with. Two went back to looking smug.  
  
One got on the back of the bike and slid his hands around her waist. He felt her tremble slightly as he breathed on the back of her neck and his groin pressed against her ass.  
  
"You're going to want to hold on tight." She didn't have to ask twice, One tightened his grip and leaned in closer, his face in her hair, God, it smelled good too.  
  
"Lean when you feel me lean-you've ridden before?"  
  
"Of course. But I am usually in control."  
  
"Get used to being on the back of the bike," She said then leaned around to smile at him. Her lips were inches from his, the sexual tension like electricity, couldn't she feel it?  
  
"That's called riding bitch. You can say it Killa. Bitch." Randall said snidely, then grinned at Two who smirked back at the human.  
  
"Get used to riding bitch One." Killa said, then grinned even wider, challenging him to say something back.  
  
He leaned in and whispered, "We'll be your bitch anytime mistress," then ran his tongue along the edge of her ear and felt her shiver, saw the blush spread across her cheeks until she turned around and hit the gas, hard. Oh, she felt the tension, yes she did.  
  
One's neck jerked back from the acceleration. He held her more closely, slid his hands up a bit until they were on her rib cage. Her hair was in his face, so he closed his eyes and concentrated on moving with her, smelling her skin, feeling her against him. Then he heard the siren.  
  
Where were they? His eyes snapped open; he looked over his shoulder and saw a cop car after them. Killa gunned the engine and sped through a red light and up a ramp onto the highway.  
  
"Hold on One, I mean really hold on. Shit."  
  
She shot through traffic, cutting between cars at the last second, around trucks, on the side of the road; she was zooming. Soon the cop car was far behind, but One knew from experience there'd be more soon. She needed to get off the highway while she was out of the first car's sight. Right as he thought this, she cut across all four lanes of traffic; damn, that truck came within inches of them; then down an exit ramp and around a corner into a back lot behind an abandoned building. She looked around then rolled her bike into the shadows as the sirens faded into the distance. Letting out a held breath, she leaned against his chest. He brushed his lips against her hair, circled her in his arms. Placing her hands over his hands, she laced her fingers with his and relaxed as the sirens eventually faded completely away.  
  
He waited to see if she would pull away. When she didn't he began by nuzzling the back of her neck, kissing along the sensitive nape and around to the side as she angled her neck toward him. He felt her pulse quicken as he kissed above her carotid, the blood thrumming just below the skin. She was lucky he wasn't a vampire. Up the neck to the ear, yes, he brushed his lips along the edge of her ear, nibbled on the earlobe.  
  
"Yes," he whispered, "we are your bitch. Umm," he slid one hand up to stroke her neck, while continuing to nuzzle her ear and whisper, "Yes." The other hand he used to cup her right breast, moving his thumb over the spot where her nipple would be if he could feel it through her leather jacket. Yes, that was the place. He was gratified to hear her indrawn breath, feel her slightly arch her back. She turned to face him, he could see her lips part in anticipation of a kiss. He wanted to kiss her, but he'd make her ask first, wanted to hear her ask. So he leaned in and waited for a split second, a smirk on his lips. He watched her face, first filled with desire, then with what? Guilt? Why would she feel guilty?  
  
Instead of asking, she turned back around, leaned slightly forward, and said, "Ready to go home?"  
  
"No," he said flatly, and heard her chuckle. Nibbling at her throat, he cupped both her breasts and felt her writhe against him, then heard her low moan. She wasn't ready to leave either. He slid one hand up to the zipper on her jacket, "No, we are not. Turn around and let us show you what we want," he whispered in her ear as he drew the zipper down. He slipped a hand under the jacket and realized she'd worn her t-shirt under it. Damn.  
  
She was still hesitating, what was wrong? He'd waited long enough, he pulled her around and into his arms, held the back of her head and kissed her passionately. Yes, that was good, he felt her press her body into him, return the kiss, slide her hands down and loosen the belt of his workout jacket, slide them under the jacket, over his chest, shoulders and back. He pulled her off the bike and held her against the wall of the building as he kissed her, both hands cupping her ass, his leg in her groin. He'd take her right here, right now, he didn't care who saw them.  
  
At first she responded, her nails digging into his back, her tongue in his mouth, body shivering against him. Then she pressed her hands against his chest. He did not want to stop, no, not at all. She pressed a little harder and he felt Two send him a warning image of Killa crying. Ugh.  
  
He leaned back with a groan and loosened his hold. She leaned against him panting, then said, "One I, I kissed your brother earlier today. It just happened." She paused but didn't look at him, her voice filled with shame and confusion, "I, I'm not like this, I don't know what's wrong with me." She still didn't look at him, what did she feel ashamed for? She must think they were jealous of each other, well, they had acted competitive he supposed.  
  
"We know. We are not jealous of each other."  
  
"Never?"  
  
"No, competitive, but not jealous. We share what we both desire similarly."  
  
"You share?" Her voice sounded both curious and repulsed.  
  
"Yes." How could he explain it to her? He felt her withdraw a little.  
  
"Killa, we are, there is a link between us closer than many twins. We usually have lovers separately, but we have made love to a woman together."  
  
"Ummm, I have never, well, done anything like that. I don't think, well my friend Liz might be interested. Oh, that came out wrong." She leaned back and looked up at him, her lips were slightly bruised, her hair messy from where he had his hands in it, he touched her lips and felt her respond. Her body knew what it wanted; he just had to find a way around the useless human morals. A good challenge, no matter how frustrating--it would be sweet when she finally gave in, and all that pent up passion released.  
  
"We are not interested in Liz." She was still in his arms, perhaps he was persuading her. He felt his brother touch his mind--Two reminded him of what Killa did when he let her go. One paused and reviewed his experiences with human females in general.  
  
"You are free to do as you wish, we are happy with your company in whatever measure or manner you care to give it." He paused and saw her expression soften. Good. He continued, "You know we both desire you," he leaned in, "very much," he breathed into her ear, "but we want you to be comfortable," he said as he stepped back and released her. She looked dazed. Two sent him an image of himself giving a big thumbs up.  
  
"Uh, let's get back to the dojo." Her voice was even shaky.  
  
She got back on the bike; he got on after her and chastely circled her waist with his hands. Now was the time to make her think, not to give her more.  
  
Killa thought about what One said all the way back to the dojo. It freaked her out; those two were really decadent. She thought about how freaky it would be to have sex with someone at the same time as her sister. Ewww, how exactly did that work? On the one hand she was really attracted to them both, but wasn't that awfully close to incest? Maybe she could just pick one, but how would she deal with the fact that she still wanted the other one? The truth was she wanted them both, it was hard to admit it, but she did. She just didn't want them at the same time. She would have to talk to her friend Liz who was a lot more adventurous than her.  
  
Normally Killa was the one in control, but when the twins touched her she had a hard time remembering why she needed to set limits. She liked it, and she didn't like it. It felt glorious, but it also felt like if she gave in to them, they would change her, control her, something. Pushing, they were always pushing her limits, whether it was on the mat or sexually, and it seemed deliberate, like they knew what they were doing to her. Killa felt like another world was opening to her, a world that she wasn't sure she wanted to be a part of.  
  
And what did they do when they weren't teaching Karate? She'd looked around their loft-the furnishings were terribly expensive and elegantly displayed in an understated way that said not just money, but wealth. Randall knew them, or knew something about them. Other people couldn't read Randall, but she could, like a book. He knew the twins and was nervous of them. That gave her real pause--Randall wasn't nervous around anybody. Belligerent? Yes. Obnoxious? Yes. Antagonistic? You bet. Nervous? Never, at least until today. Her and Randall were going to have a little chat, then she was going to talk to Liz and do some real thinking about what she wanted. No way was she going to let someone else control her, her life or her anything.  
  
Killa pulled up to the dojo and got off her bike. Two walked up smirking, expecting her to give him a ride as well. The sun was just dipping below the horizon, a multicolor sunset blooming across the sky. Two was silhouetted against the last rays of the sun, his hair and skin a slightly golden color as they reflected the light. They were so beautiful; it really was hard to resist them.  
  
"May we have a ride Miss?" He said sweetly.  
  
How could she say no? "Sure, but I need to get Randall home so it will be short."  
  
Two looked questioningly at Randall who actually smiled a half-smile at the twin and said, "No hurry, Killer. Take your time. Two and I had a good conversation while you were gone. I'll wait for him." Randall emphasized "him." Weird, so he liked Two but didn't like One? Huh.  
  
Randall watched Two climb on the back of the bike and grasp Killer around the waist as they rolled out of the parking lot. She was being more careful with Two, going a little slower. That guy was ok. He'd learned more about automatic weapons in the last twenty minutes than he had in the last year. Plus, they didn't exactly talk about Killer, but he could tell from the way the guy acted that he didn't just want to screw her, but he liked her too, maybe more than he realized. Shame his brother was such an ass. But, then, if it had been him and some guy'd shown up with a big expensive present for a girl he wanted, he'd have probably done the same, maybe worse. Two was ok. One he'd have to tolerate. It could be worse; she could be still dating Kolby. At least these guys treated her like an equal.  
  
Randall hated Kolby, still hated him and the guy was supposed to be dead. Little weasely bastard made him sick, acted one way in front of Killer, then another behind her back. Guy had always been a bully, then he started bullying Killer too and Randall would have killed him if she hadn't got rid of him. He was real proud of her for that, took some guts. Only problem, she hadn't dated any guy since for more than a month. I mean, it was college, and Killer was no virgin, but he wanted her to be happy. These two ought to keep her busy for a while, and they'd be able to handle her without being intimidated by how fing smart she was. Plus, they were clearly more experienced than college boys so if she pulled some of the bullshit he'd seen her pull on guys before; they'd be able to deal with it.  
  
Her and Liz, Christ, they were a pair. Katie and Kiko weren't so bad, but get Killer and Liz together and watch out. He wondered how the twins would deal with Killer when Liz was around. Heh, he'd have to make sure he was there for that. He wished Liz weren't in college, were more like him. He knew she liked the bad boy him, but didn't know of she'd like the real him. Killer knew him, and that was ok because she just sort of was around until she got to know him. But it was hard for him to trust someone else, though he'd watched Liz for the last three years and he thought she might be ok.  
  
She was hot, and wild, and that was good in his book, but he'd also seen her be a good and caring friend to Killer so he knew there was more to her than a booming body. Killer kept trying to get him to ask Liz out, kept encouraging him. Hell, Liz'd asked him out at least fifty times, it was becoming a joke. He'd see her and she'd say, "Wanna go out?" instead of "Hi," then grin a goofy grin that he never saw her use with anyone else but him. He kept ducking his head and saying, "Maybe next time," and then grinning back. He never grinned. It was embarrassing.  
  
One was standing there silent just staring at him like he was a show. Now that guy was a bit scary. Intense. Randall looked back at him evenly, but wasn't saying a damn thing unless spoken to.  
  
"We thank you for waiting on our brother." Did the guy sound a little friendlier? So what.  
  
"Sure."  
  
"We don't like to share. We thought."  
  
"Yeah, I know what you thought." Randall cut him off without thinking, then checked to see of the guy looked pissed. A little.  
  
"You know her well?"  
  
Here it comes, Randall thought. Oh, he'd been down this road before. If he had a dollar for every time a guy Killer was dating had asked him for advice, he'd be rich. He hated that shit. Most of the time he gave them bad advice, hell, ok, all the time he gave bad advice, like really, obviously bad advice like, "Make sure she knows you're the boss." Or, "Never offer to pay for anything, not even your own part of the ticket. Killer really likes to pay for everything, it's a feminist thing." It was his job to weed out the stupid.  
  
"Yeah."  
  
Randall kept waiting for the questions to come, but they didn't. Instead the guy just sort of watched the sunset fade away then said, "We would like to know her well too," and walked back inside the dojo.  
  
Maybe One wasn't so bad after all.  
  
While Randall was thinking and talking to One, Killa and Two rode off into the sunset like something out of a romance novel. After the police chase, and what happened next, Killa stuck to a bit faster than the flow of traffic. Two kept his hands around her waist lightly. She exited the highway and headed for Oceanside, maybe they could catch the last bit of sunset, it really was pretty. Then she could run the bike once around the usual course and get a feel for how it handled. But not too fast, she wouldn't want to hurt Two if something went wrong. And it was hard to really corner well with someone else on the bike.  
  
Two was enjoying the ride immensely. This was more pleasurable than he expected, more surprising not knowing where they were going. He was used to being in control, it was interesting being a passenger. He'd caught bits of what happened between Killa and his brother, but hadn't gotten the whole file yet. It was a good development, she liked them both and it was now out in the open what they wanted. At a minimum, they had finally made a good start on a human friend.  
  
He was amused by that friend of hers as well, Randall. The human was vicious, playful, tricky, funny and loyal to his one friend. Interesting. Knew a lot about weapons too. Liked Bowie knives, but not straight razors, sad choice that.  
  
Humans would call today beautiful, and surprisingly he would too, for once. He normally did not at all understand the human obsession with weather, but it was a mild cool day that made riding pleasurable. When the sun went down, it would chill, which would give him an excuse to hold Killa closer. Wonderful weather.  
  
Killa turned into the first of the curves as the land fell away behind them and the ocean came into view. Magnificent, she could see the sun burning across the water around the edge of the cliff. A switchback and a curve, then they could pause at one of her favorite places and watch the sun slip into shadow.  
  
Killa slowed the bike and rolled off the road onto the edge. She got off the bike and took Two by the hand, led him almost to the edge of the cliff and sat down. He put his arm around her and she laid her head on his chest as he stroked her hair. Together they watched the sun disappear, then the afterglow fade until twilight reigned.  
  
Two did not exactly know what this feeling was, but he thought it might be contentment. It was not unpleasant. He was quite pleased to simply hold Killa and watch an imaginary sun slip into imaginary water. Oddly, he found this activity satisfying, very satisfying indeed. Yes, it had to be contentment, because he still wanted her, but was content to hold her since she was obviously enjoying it so much. Contentment.  
  
At first Killa expected Two to try to kiss her, that was pretty much par for both of them. And as good as the kisses were, she felt like sex was all they wanted from her. This was sort of a test, let's see what one of them does in a truly romantic setting, do they ever just enjoy the moment? Surprisingly Two at least did.  
  
Finally the twilight faded and the stars began to come out. Killa stood up, then asked Two, "Do you want to see the course I won my bike on? I won't go too fast, I promise."  
  
Two smiled and said, "Go as fast as you like. We like fast."  
  
"I can't corner as well with another person on the bike, but I'll make it fast enough."  
  
They walked back to the bike. Right before they got back on, Two held her for a moment, then bent his head and lightly kissed her on the lips. "For luck," he said softly as he released her. She smiled and touched her fingers to his lips. 


	13. Kolby is a bad bad man

Kolby stepped onto the Genesis, God it felt good to be back, even if all they did since the peace was pick up the few people the machines claimed were ready to leave. He felt sure there were a lot more people who would want freedom if they knew the truth--who would choose to be a battery over the real world? The machines were parceling out just enough slaves to keep them happy with pick-up duty, just enough to keep the peace, Kolby was sure of it. They probably found it more "efficient" than fighting rebels and upped the production on the fetus fields to cover the few minds they released. It was a far cry from the end of the Matrix so many gave their lives for. Kolby hated the machines, but kept it to himself-they were all supposed to try to understand the machines now, to try to work together.  
  
Seventeen years since Neo won the peace, and while things were better for the Zionites, in Kolby's opinion too many people thought of the machines as sort of like hard shell humans. Reports of human and machine romances, humans somehow becoming Matrix programs, programs assuming a physical body to experience Zion in the flesh, and of defections back into the Matrix to be with a plugged in human who didn't want to leave occurred every month. It was sick, and most of it had to be urban legend, it couldn't be true, all of it. Kolby thought flesh-traitors should be shot. But as much as the Council disagreed with their choices, they let them happen. The line between human and machine was increasingly blurred.  
  
"Hey Kolby, your crazy girlfriend's been racing again. Man you got to see the clip of the latest stunt she did, Oceanside at night in an electrical storm, that girl is nuts." Kolby looked up to see Pham come around the corner grinning from ear to ear. Pham owed him, he covered up Pham's little Matrix hobbies, and Pham did him favors in return.  
  
Pham kept talking "I thought for sure she was going to wake herself up and we'd finally get to collect her. Oh, and that's not all. You know those twin things the Merovingian keeps around? Well guess who Killa's new sparring partners are? And they have a thing for her, and was she willing. Hot stuff man."  
  
Kolby glared at Pham. What the hell was he talking about? And he knew the tapes were supposed to be secret, why wasn't he whispering?  
  
"Everyone's on leave man. Chill."  
  
Kolby visibly relaxed. If they caught him keeping up with Killa, he'd be barred from serving on a ship, this time probably forever. It took him a full year and a half of kissing ass to get a half-time berth on the Genesis after he tried to force exit Killa. Only his "youthful inexperience" excused his behavior. Kolby tolerated psych evaluation after psych evaluation before they declared him fit to serve. Ha. He knew how that game worked; he'd been conning people as long as he could remember. Zionites were no different. It was pie. He played the young man in love, which he was, and pretty soon people started blaming Killa for being heartless and deceived. Pie.  
  
All except for a few of the old dinosaurs on the council. That Morpheus and his bitch Niobe, he knew they didn't trust him. But Counselor Locke, that guy still hated the machines as much as he did during the war. He loved Kolby like a son. Kolby remembered his punishment hearing before the council after he came home in disgrace. All Morpheus said was "You are lucky you did not meet an agent. They are still active to protect against people like you." People like him. Huh.  
  
But Counselor Locke took him aside and said, "You love her, you had to give her the chance to be free. I understand." Counselor Locke then lowered his voice to a whisper, "The machines know this peace will not last, that is why they release so few of their slaves. We need all the fighters we can get. More want freedom, I know. You feel this too. The time will come when I will need you. " He then shook Kolby's hand and told him to wait, Locke would find him a berth on a ship with like-minded people.  
  
But at every turn, Morpheus or Niobe frustrated Locke. They'd blocked Kolby's efforts to get a ship for as long as they could, then arranged to have him posted to the Genesis so he'd be watched. How they underestimated him. The captain, a freak in his thirties that everyone still called "Kid," suspected that Kolby wasn't what he seemed. Probably the reason Kolby was still on half-time, six months on, six months off. But everyone else Kolby either owned, like Pham, or manipulated, like Splinter his "girlfriend." She was useful, but a little too stupid and weak for Kolby's taste. Too easy to break.  
  
Pham was whining, so he must have been frowning at him. Kolby enjoyed the power he had over Pham as he listened to the man speak, "Look, man, I'm just relaying what happened, just like you asked. Come see me man, I downloaded it and saved it for you just like you asked, the captain doesn't know, it's just between you and me, bro. I got you covered. I'm your friend."  
  
"Sure you are Pham. And you want me to take your watch so you can "enjoy" a few prostitutes, right?" Pham had tastes that were impossible to fill in Zion, but easy enough to satisfy in the Matrix. As long as he had someone to cover for him. Who cared about a few coppertop whores?  
  
A nervous smile spread over Pham's face. "Sure, Kolby, whatever you say." 


	14. Two's turn

**chapter 14**

She could ride, there was no question of that. Halfway through the course it occurred to Two that if he were able to die, he might be a little bit afraid. He wondered if she did this to all her prospective lovers to see if they had as much guts as her? He felt her continue to pick up speed, the bike roared around the curves and had almost skidded out of control when it hit a patch of gravel on the last switchback. He'd felt her sort of flex, then saw the Matrix code alter slightly and the bike skid halt. That ought to be impossible for a plugged human, right? He checked her code, no, not part program, just human.

Finally they reached the end of the illegal course. Killa slowed to a stop then twisted around grinning evilly.

"So, how'd you like it? Fast enough for you?" She was taunting him! He could imagine some of the reactions she'd gotten in the past.

"It was adequate." He said with a smirk. "But we could do it faster."

"Really? With me on the back?"

"Yes."

She paused for a moment, then slid off the bike and offered it to Two, "Let's see."

He just smirked and moved down to the front of the bike and motioned for her to get on the back. She got on and put her arms around his waist. Since he was so much bigger than her, she had to hold him close to get a good grip. Fine with him.

"Are you certain you want to do this Killa?" Two asked, teasingly.

"You don't scare me Two." She said laughing, "I'm sure you wouldn't say you could do it if you couldn't."

Actually he could go a lot faster than she had, but he knew she could have gone faster too if she wasn't concerned about his safety. And she was human- -it wasn't a fair comparison. What if he did skid out of control? He'd survive of course but she wouldn't. Or if he managed to phase with her, there'd be a lot of explaining to do. Suddenly this challenge wasn't as appealing as before.

Killa felt Two pause, then felt his body tense. What was the problem?

"Killa, we would rather not do this," his voice sounded tentative, like he expected her to make fun of him.

"Okay, Two, you don't have to. I'll be happy to take us back to the dojo."

"If something were to happen we would regret it very much." He held her hands and gave then a light squeeze.

"It's ok." She felt him relax beneath her. Good. "Here, let's switch."

They switched and she rode around the course again, but went more slowly. She shouldn't have pushed it so much last time. She was as bad as them, pushing Two to try to outdo her in something she knew she was really good at. But he'd been really sweet about it, surprisingly.

Two held her closer as they neared the dojo, like he didn't want to let her go. He'd been so tender, that surprised her. Passionate she expected from him, aggressive, but not tenderly affectionate. She could feel him lean his head against her as they turned the last corner and the dojo came into view. Randall and One had already gone inside. She felt a slight pang of guilt that they had been gone so long, but Randall had said it was ok.

Two released her as they rolled to a stop and got off the bike. Killa rolled the bike inside the dojo; this area was a little dangerous after dark and Randall would kill her if she allowed the bike to be stolen before she had a chance to race it. And she needed it to make money.

She should call her friends about the tuition and see what they were going to do, and, shoot; she forgot she was supposed to go to a party with Liz. What time was it? 8:30? Holy cow, she'd have to call Liz and explain, she was supposed to be at Liz's house thirty minutes ago for Liz to fix her up. Liz needed her to go to a frat party for some reason. Killa was in too much of a hurry to listen to the whole explanation on the answering machine, just called back and said, "Yes." Whatever it was, she knew it would be fun; Liz was crazy.

"Thanks for the ride. We enjoyed it." Two said softly behind her. She'd been so lost in worrying about paying for tuition and her plans for tonight she'd forgotten Two!

"You're welcome Two. I enjoyed it also." She smiled at Two, who smiled back. He had a nice smile; she'd never seen him smile before. It wasn't a big smile, sort of a gentle up curving of his lips, but it was a smile and not his usual smirk.


End file.
